Leviathan
by marinawings
Summary: SHADOWS OF THE ISLAND's sequel. Skull Island's survivors, consisting of Englehorns, Driscolls, Seabornes, etc., are called on to investigate sea monster sightings in the North Atlantic, where they will become involved in even more romance and adventure.
1. Marriage and the Englehorns

This story is the sequel to Shadows of the Island. Even if you haven't read the other one, you will (hopefully) still find this one enjoyable. But… check out the prequel, too. I loved writing it so much, that I am writing this one to go along with it. Yay!

"Can you draw out Leviathan with a hook?" Job 41:1a

Chapter One

"So… if _you _win, _you _get to choose what we do next. And if _I _win, _I _choose what we do," announced Clytie Seline Seaborne Englehorn.

"You might as well give up and do what _I _want to do, because I'm going to win," her husband, Captain Eric Englehorn, replied.

"And what might that be, dearest Captain?" asked Clytie, free hand on her hip, while the other swung a rifle at her side.

He smiled slowly, shouldering his rifle and taking aim at the driftwood on the shore, nearly fifty yards away. "Do you have to ask?" he muttered, peering down the barrel.

Clytie shook her head. "What does it matter who wins if we both want to do the same thing?"

He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. "It matters who wins," he said.

Clytie grinned crookedly, shaking her head again. Men.

Eric squeezed the trigger. BAM! A piece of driftwood exploded on the beach. Husband turned to wife with a smug smile on his face. "Your turn, my love."

Clytie sighed and lifted her rifle to her shoulder, taking aim, trying to keep her arms steady.

"You look beautiful."

Clytie lowered the rifle and glared at her husband. "You're trying to distract me."

He wore a straight face, his blue eye serious. "You _are_ beautiful." He reached to brush a strand of her strawberry blonde hair from her face.

His touch made her shiver pleasantly, as it usually did. "And you are very handsome, my love. Now kindly step back from me so that I can shoot that driftwood." Once again, she settled the rifle against her shoulder.

"What? You can't concentrate on anything else with me this close?" He came up to stand close behind her, settling his hands on her shoulders, rubbing her collarbone with his thumbs. He loved it when she wore the blue shirt that she was wearing…

"Eric!" Clytie exclaimed. It was annoying her that he insisted on this contest, then interfered when she tried to participate. But… She could hardly stay mad at him for long when he was treating her like this, practically adoring her.

"All right. I'll let you shoot." He stepped back from her and stood silently, watching her every move. He knew from the twitch of her expressive hands on the rifle that she was fighting to stay annoyed with him. He smiled slowly. He knew just how to charm her, just as she was an expert on charming him.

Clytie took aim. BAM! Her bullet barely scraped the edge of a piece of driftwood. She let out a long breath and lowered her rifle, narrowing her eyes on the barely scratched target. "You distracted me, Captain," she said flatly. "My mind… was not on the target."

Eric took the rifle from her and leaned it beside his own, then took his wife's hands in his. "I'm sorry, Clytie," he said quietly.

She glared at him. "You look anything but sorry."

He raised his eyebrows innocently.

Clytie fought hard not to smile, but lost. "Gosh, Eric! I can never stay mad at you!"

"Well that's a good thing," her husband replied, drawing her into his arms. "Because I just won, and now we have to do whatever I want to do."

"Mercy! What would that be?" Clytie asked teasingly.

He kissed her lips warmly. "The same thing you would have chosen." He swept her up into his arms, carrying her off across the deck of the ship.

(LINE)

They had been married for one week, the ship's captain and the marine biologist. For their honeymoon, they had rented a small boat and set sail from Charleston, South Carolina, where Clytie's deceased parents had been born. The weather had so far been perfect, warm with a cool breeze, and Clytie and her captain were extremely pleased with each other and life in general.

Clytie was very happy with her new role in life as a wife. Now she understood why Ann and Jack were so happy, why they looked at each other the way they did, why Ann's eyes lit up around Jack. She guessed it was the kind of relationship that only sprung up between two well-matched individuals, like Jack and Ann, or herself and Eric.

"What are you thinking about?" Eric asked her quietly as they laid lazily and comfortably on the bed in the little cabin. The window was opened, and a cool breeze lifted the gauzy white curtains and played with Clytie's long red-gold hair.

"Us." Clytie smiled at the word.

"Us…" Her husband repeated. He studied her intently with those brilliant blue eyes of his. "And what do you think of us, dearest Clytie?" He took one of her hands in his, playing with her fingers.

"I like us," Clytie said with a little laugh. "I like us together. We're very well suited."

He kissed her hand and grinned crookedly. "Are we now?"

"Yes."

"Despite our differences?"

"Despite our differences."

"And despite our similarities?"

"Yes, and despite those as well."

And it was true. Despite everything that could possibly come between them, Clytie was glad that they were together. They were so different, yet so very alike. She came from a wealthy American family, and he was German, and none too wealthy. Her job was respectable, scientific, a bit high-brow. And he was the captain of a rusty tramp steamer, who occasionally took jobs that weren't quite legal. But they were both intelligent, both quiet, both brave, and they both enjoyed shooting guns and sailing the ocean.

They had been thrown together in a rescue attempt to save her brother David, who had been stranded on Skull Island. And ever since their first meeting on the New York City docks, there had been a powerful attraction between them, which had never faded.

"What are you thinking of now?" Eric asked, still studying her.

Clytie met his blue gaze with her green one. It still unsettled her how blue and intense his eyes were. And it was not altogether an unpleasant unsettling. She kissed him softly. "I was thinking of when we first met on the docks."

"Ah, yes." He sighed. "I cannot imagine what my life would be without you, Clytie Englehorn." He caught her up in his arms and kissed her strongly on the lips, and she kissed him back with just as much passion.

Then, suddenly, there was a loud shout. "Captain and Mrs. Englehorn! Are you in there?"

Eric groaned. "Who is it?" he yelled back.

Clytie laid back on the pillow and sighed, annoyed at having her quality time with Eric cut short.

"This is Peter Nelson. I'm with the telegraph service at the harbor. There's a message for you," came the reply.

The Englehorns were instantly on their feet, getting dressed in decent clothing.

"We'll be out right away!" Eric called.

(LINE)

"Guys, I've got some news," announced David Seaborne, walking into the restaurant where his three friends were eating.

"Good or bad?" asked Preston nervously.

"You tell me." David plopped down in a chair. "Here. Read this." He handed Preston a piece of paper.

Preston took the paper, adjusted his glasses, and read quietly.

"So… While he's reading… Status report on the bride search," said David. He, Preston, Jimmy, and Bruce Baxter were currently on a mission to find brides--or at least steady girlfriends--in New York City.

"Bruce has all the girls--again!" Jimmy exclaimed, shaking his head.

"Well what about that girl I saw you walking with the other night, Jimmy? That pretty little redhead?" asked David, his handsome hazel eyes twinkling.

Jimmy blushed and muttered something about David being nosy.

Bruce slapped Jimmy on the back. "Looks like our friend here has struck gold!" he exclaimed. "That young lady just happens to go by the name of Rebecca Bradley, daughter of a very rich family."

"I don't care how rich she is," Jimmy muttered, glancing darkly at the actor. "She's very nice."

"Of course she is," Bruce replied absently. "Now let me tell you fellas about these twin sisters I met yesterday at the theater…" He smoothly launched into yet another tale of his expertise with the ladies.

Jimmy gave David a pleading look.

"So, Preston," David spoke up quickly. "What do you think of that message?"

(LINE)

"Ann!"

"Clytie!"

The two young women ran toward each other, arms spread wide. Then Clytie slowed down. "Should I be easy? You _are _pregnant, you know."

Ann stopped running and gave her friend a hug. "Yes, I know. Isn't it wonderful?" Her beautiful blue eyes were sparkling. "And _you _are married."

"Yes. I am." Clytie looked over her shoulder at Eric, who was coming up behind her.

Ann studied the other young woman carefully, taking in the pink in her cheeks, the light in her eyes, that special smile… Yes, the married life agree with Clytie Seaborne Englehorn. _Good for her. Good for Englehorn. They deserve it, after all they went through on that voyage… _Both Clytie and the captain had been through some very dangerous situations during their mission to rescue David. Eric had even been shot by a mutinous crewman, taking the bullet meant for Clytie. It was a wonder the man was still alive.

"Good to see you again Jack, Ann," Eric said, standing behind his wife and placing his hands on her shoulders.

Ann smiled at him. Obviously, from the way he looked at Clytie, from the way he touched her, he was enjoying being married as well.

"Shall we get down to business?" Eric asked, his blue eyes serious.

"An excellent idea," said Jack, coming up behind Ann. "Come on up to the apartment."

"Jack… Is this whole thing… real? Legitimate?" asked Clytie hesitantly.

Jack nodded. "I believe it is."

(LINE)

"A sea monster. A real, live sea monster." David Seaborne grinned broadly. "This sounds like fun."

"It could be dangerous," said Preston quietly. "And do we really want to abandon the bride search for a… sea monster?"

"I don't think so," Bruce spoke up, standing up from where he sat in the Driscolls' living room. "Count me out."

"The more the merrier, Bruce," Jimmy said. "Why don't you come along? It will help your hero image, won't it?"

The actor sat back down.

"Am I supposed to attempt to capture this animal?" asked Eric, frowning. _I've only been married for a week. I don't intend to end our married lives anytime soon…_

"I don't think so," Jack replied. "From what Higgins told me, he wants us to study the animal, not capture it. He wants you to take us out to its last location and to provide protection. Clytie and David will be hired to study the animal. Preston will try to film it. And I will write about it."

Eric raised his eyebrows. "Doesn't sound too dangerous…" Then he sighed. "But it always is, isn't it?" He shook his head. "I don't know about this…"

"John Higgins is a top scientist," Jack explained. "He's very eager to find out whether or not these sea monster reports are true. You can verify it with him, if you want. He's out there now, near Iceland, looking for the creature, so you'd have to send him a telegram…"

"I trust you, Driscoll, but still…"

"There is a lot of money involved," Jack said quietly.

Eric gritted his teeth. He had done unwise things for money before--and paid dearly for it. "No money is worth the life of my wife."

"Of course not," Jack agreed sincerely. "That's why I called all of you here to discuss this. We need to weigh the costs, then decide what to do. I say either we all go, or none of us go."

They were all quiet for a moment, remembering previous voyages on Eric's ship, the _Venture. _

Then Clytie thought, _A sea monster… What marine biologist would pass up an offer like this? It would be so much fun! And with Eric by my side, it would be just another part of the honeymoon… _That made her smile. "I'm in," she said.

Eric started to refuse, started to tell her that it was too dangerous, that they wouldn't go. Then he smiled crookedly at her, his beautiful, adventurous wife. "Of course you are, which means I am as well."

"We're all going, aren't we?" Ann asked with a slight smile.

"Ann, you're pregnant," said Jack, frowning.

She kissed him on the cheek. "Our baby had better get used to adventure early, Jack."

"So it's settled then," said Preston with a sigh.

"It's settled," Jack replied. "Any further discussion?"

There was a brief discussion on when the expedition would leave, what kind of equipment to take, and the like, then, when David, Jimmy, Preston, and Bruce began telling bride search stories, Eric pulled his wife aside and whispered to her, "There's something I have to tell you."

"What?" she whispered back with a smile.

"Come on." He took her hand and lead her into the kitchen, which was dark and empty.

"What is it, Eric?" Clytie asked, concerned by the look in his brilliant blue eyes.

"Clytie, I don't want to lose you," he said quietly, his voice intense. "Maybe we shouldn't go…"

"If you don't want to, we don't have to," Clytie replied, frowning and taking his hands. "We don't have to, Eric."

"But you want to."

"Not if you don't."

They were both quiet.

Clytie smiled suddenly. "You _do_ want to go, don't you?"

Eric sighed. "Yes. But not if it means danger to you."

"Danger? Ha!" Clytie released his hands and began to drum her fingers on his chest. "This is Clytie Englehorn, darling! I've survived Skull Island!"

"All right." He was smiling now. "So we both want to go." He grabbed her suddenly, pulling her close. "I'll take care of you. I won't let anything happen to you."

"I know," she whispered. "And I'll do the same for you."

He leaned down to kiss her passionately on the lips, breaking quickly apart from her when David called to them from the other room.

"This kiss isn't over," Eric whispered to his wife as they walked innocently back into the living room.

"Of course not," she replied, winking at him.

(A/N: I hope you guys like this story as well as the first one! And I hope you don't mind that I call Englehorn "Eric." Typing Englehorn over and over is a chore, and his first name was established as Eric in Shadows of the Island, so I thought it would be convenient to call him Eric. And don't worry. It's not all going to be talk. Next chapter will start the hunt for the sea monster (a.k.a. Leviathan). Anyways, you know I love an encouraging review! So give me reviews, and I give you updates! Yay!)


	2. Vanessa Star Madison and Fabrice R

Chapter Two

A week after the meeting in the Driscolls' apartment, the _Venture _was prepared to set sail for the North Atlantic, in search of a sea monster Clytie had dubbed "Leviathan."

David Seaborne stood off a bit from the others as they began loading equipment and luggage onto the ship. He was rather excited by the prospect of yet another adventure, but… He was going to miss the bride search, particularly because of a pretty young woman named…

"Vanessa! What are you doing here?" he exclaimed as the girl walked up to him.

Vanessa Madison smiled brightly at him, tossing her long, thick dark hair over her shoulder. "What does it look like, you idiot? I'm coming with you!" Still grinning, she held up a suitcase. "So… why don't you introduce me to everyone?"

David frowned. "You can't come, Vanessa. You don't even know what we're doing!"

"Yes I do," she protested. "We're going to look for a sea monster." Her dark blue eyes sparkled. "Sounds like fun!"

"How do you--?"

"Your sister told me." Vanessa turned around to wave at Clytie, who was carrying Ann's bags up the gangplank.

David slapped a hand to his forehead.

"She said I could come along," Vanessa explained cheerfully. "She asked her husband, of course, since he's the captain and all."

David sighed. He tried to look pained, but was actually kind of excited that Vanessa was coming along. "Oh, all right. I guess you're coming along then."

(LINE)

"Ann, this is Vanessa--Vanessa Star. She's a friend of David's, and she's going to be joining us on this… mission," Clytie explained to her friend as the three women stood on the deck of the _Venture. _"Vanessa, this is Ann Driscoll."

Vanessa gave a little nod, smiling at Ann. "Yes. I know. You used to be Ann Darrow, didn't you? And you married Jack Driscoll, right?"

Ann nodded. "That's right."

"Glad to meet you," said Vanessa.

"Likewise," said Ann.

Vanessa was grinning broadly, her dark, twinkling blue eyes becoming half-circles. "This is going to be fun, isn't it?"

Ann sighed, suddenly frowning. "I hope so. The last two voyages on this ship turned out to be rather… dangerous." She shuddered, then smiled again. "But I wasn't going to let Jack go without me. Someone has to look out for him, you know."

"I heard about the other two trips," Vanessa said. "King Kong and all that."

"Yes. And all that," Ann muttered.

"And then when Clytie rescued David!" Vanessa exclaimed. "What an adventure story! He told me all about it. Your lives have been like--like movies!"

Clytie smiled wryly. "I suppose so."

"Clytie!"

She turned around with a smile for her husband. "What is it, Eric?" she called to where he stood outside the bridge.

"Come up here. I need your help with some maps," he called to her.

"All right!" She waved at Ann and Vanessa, then hurried off to join the captain on the bridge.

"Her face just lit up when she heard his voice!" Vanessa exclaimed.

"Yes. They really love each other." Ann sighed. "It was all very romantic, the way they came to realize their love. You'll have to ask Clytie about it sometime."

"You and Jack have a rather romantic story as well," the other girl commented.

Ann smiled. "Yes. We do."

(LINE)

Laughter from the galley drifted up to the bridge. Clytie smiled. So far, this trip was turning out to be a much more light-hearted affair than the last one. This time, no one's life was in danger, and Skull Island was not involved. This was a simple scientific mission to study an anomaly, a sea creature, her area of expertise.

A cloud passed over the afternoon sun, and Clytie shivered. _Who am I kidding? None of us on board this ship can get involved in anything without it turning into some dangerous adventure. _She tightened her hands on the wheel of the ship, suddenly worried.

"Clytie… Are you all right?" Eric asked, coming up behind her.

She flashed him a tight smile. "I suppose I am… just…" She sighed. "I hope this little adventure ends well."

"So do I." His brilliant blue eyes were serious. "But we can't turn back now."

"I don't really want to, Eric. I'm just a bit nervous, that's all." She looked back to the horizon. "Can I lock the wheel for awhile?"

"Yes. We don't have to turn for quite a few knots now."

As soon as Clytie turned from the wheel, Eric pulled her into his arms and hugged her. "We'll be all right, my love," he said quietly. "We'll take care of each other, just like we have before."

Clytie nodded into his strong shoulder.

"Ahem."

The Englehorns turned to see Darby Galyon, the First Mate, standing in the bridge's doorway, and they quickly pulled apart.

"Never mind me," Darby said, spreading his hands in front of him. "I understand. Newlyweds and all." He winked.

The captain cleared his throat. "Mr. Galyon, the bridge is yours for now."

"Yes, sir." Darby nodded. "I'll take care of things."

Clytie and Eric walked hand in hand down to the galley to join their friends. They quietly slipped in the door.

"I'll see you later, Clytie," Eric said, giving his wife a kiss on the forehead. "I need to go check on the engines."

"All right, Eric." She smiled at him, then released his hand and walked further into the galley, seating herself beside Ann.

Eric watched her for a while, which was something he never got tired of, then walked out of the galley, putting on a serious face for his duties as captain.

That night, Clytie, Vanessa, and Ann all stood on the bow deck, talking and laughing, discussing life, adventure, and, naturally, the men in their lives. As Clytie and Vanessa were talking about some of David's adventures, Ann wandered over to the railing, looking ahead at the star-spangled horizon. It was a beautiful night, so peaceful and calm…

"Captain! There's another ship behind us!" Jimmy's call drifted down from the crow's nest, shattering the peace.

Clytie and Ann looked at each other, both struck by a sudden memory. On their previous voyage, Carl Denham, who was now in jail, had followed the _Venture, _eventually catching up and boarding it. His presence on the mission, along with that of Joe Wilson, a vengeful sailor, had caused much mayhem--and the near death of Eric Englehorn.

Clytie swallowed quickly. "I think--I think I'm going to join Eric on the bridge."

Ann nodded, understanding her friend's need to be near the man she loved. "All right. I think Vanessa and I are going to join Jack and the others in the galley."

"What's going on?" Vanessa asked, squinting her dark blue eyes at her two friends. "There are lots of ships on the sea. What's wrong with coming across another one?"

The other young women were quiet for a moment.

"Last time this happened…" Clytie started. She sighed. "On our last voyage, we were followed--"

"By Carl Denham and your godfather, Jake Atkins. Yes, I remember David telling me that," Vanessa finished. "Bad memories, then, huh?"

Clytie nodded tightly.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" Ann suggested suddenly, smiling at her friends reassuringly. "This talk of bad memories can't be good for us. I say we see what Jack is doing. Or Preston. Or David. Or somebody."

Clytie nodded quickly. "Good idea, Ann."

And the three young women walked into the galley.

(LINE)

Fabrice Rousseau knew an opportunity when he saw one. And this (he smiled and tossed his dark mane)… This was quite the opportunity.

"Rousseau!" came a shout from the _Venture. _

Fabrice smiled. Ah yes. Englehorn. "Captain Englehorn," he called across the waves. "How very good to see you again."

"What is your business, Rousseau?" Englehorn asked shortly. From his stance under the lights of his ship--feet spread, hands on hips, chin tilted upward--he was a bit annoyed at having his little mission interrupted by the arrival of Fabrice's ship, the _Delphine._

"The same as usual, monsieur," the French captain replied. "And the same as yours, I expect." He smiled at that. True, he and Englehorn were involved in the same sort of work, but… Farbrice glanced at his ship, which was larger, sleeker, less rusty… Fabrice considered himself a cut above.

"What did you want to say to me?" asked Englehorn.

Fabrice managed to contain his sudden impulse to roll his eyes. Good old Englehorn, always to the point. "I wanted to let you know that you should have taken that last job offer. It lined my purse quite well." He shook his head, laughing. "I hear you turned it down to get married."

A woman suddenly walked out of the bridge to stand beside the German captain. She was tall, with long reddish-blonde hair and a subtle, but deliciously feminine figure. She looked like a fairy creature, standing there in the light of one of the ship's lanterns. Fabrice raised his dark eyebrows. "I heartily approve of your decision, monsieur," he called, brown eyes twinkling. "What a lovely young woman. I wonder what she sees in you."

"Is that all you have to say, Rousseau?" Englehorn snapped. "I have work to do."

"I know," Fabrice called. "That's what I really wanted to say--that I know what you've been hired to do, and I intend to get there first." He bowed mockingly toward the _Venture _and her captain, then turned and walked onto the bridge of his ship.

(LINE)

Eric Englehorn gritted his teeth as he watched Fabrice Rousseau walk confidently out of sight. That man had always annoyed him, constantly trying to get in the way, to get the better of anyone he considered competition.

"I gather the two of you have some sort of history," Clytie said quietly, resting her head against his shoulder. "Would you like to tell me about it?"

Eric took her hand and led her back onto the bridge. "He and I have been… rivals, I suppose, for years. He thinks that with that fancy ship and his 'charm,' he is better than I am." He flashed his wife a quick smile. "But if he took a quick look at the facts, he would find that I have captured more animals than he has." He frowned again. "And he never captured anything like Kong."

Clytie kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, Eric. We'll get there before he does. We're better equipped, I'm sure. And look at our team!"

Eric smiled again, his blue eyes intense. "And I have one incredible asset he will never have."

Clytie raised her eyebrows. "What's that?"

He lifted her hand to his lips. "You."

(A/N: So what do you think? I thought I'd add a little competition for our friends. After all, conflict breeds a good story. Review, please! A good review never hurt anyone! And a little encouragement goes a long way.)


	3. Love, Marriage, and All That Good Stuff

Chapter Three

Clytie bent over her husband as he slept, her grayish green eyes narrowed on his sleeping form. His lean, strong chest rose and fell steadily, and his face, generally so intense, was relaxed as he slept, making him look years younger than he normally appeared, perhaps even younger than he actually was. Then there was that scar on his shoulder, standing out whitely against his tanned skin. It served as a constant reminder to the Englehorns of a day not so long ago when Eric had saved Clytie's life…

Blue eyes opened, once again startling Clytie with their utter blueness. "What are you looking at, Clytie?" Eric asked, smiling crookedly up at her.

"You, of course, husband," she replied, sitting beside him on the bed.

He sat up and drew her into his arms, saying no words, needing no words.

(LINE)

The sea rolled and undulated beneath the prow of the _Venture_, sparkling gray-blue under the sun. Ann thought it appeared to be dancing. She smiled at that thought and leaned further over the rail to draw in more of the beautiful view with her eyes.

"It's lovely out here!" exclaimed a high-pitched voice from behind her.

Ann turned around. She smiled when she saw who was behind her. "Vanessa. Good morning."

"Good morning." The younger woman joined Ann at the railing. "I could get to love this, I think," she said, her cobalt eyes twinkling. "I suppose I should do that if I'm serious about David."

Ann smiled crookedly. "Are you?"

Vanessa frowned. "Am I what?"

"Serious about David."

The dark-haired girl grinned and ducked her head, blushing lightly. "I guess I am." She bit her lip. "He's sweet, isn't he? And incredibly handsome."

"I can't disagree," Ann said with a wink. "Though I must say, my tastes run more towards that writer, Jack Driscoll. He's a dream."

Vanessa cocked her head to the side, momentarily confused. Then she laughed. "Of course! He's your husband!"

Ann laughed as well, thinking that Vanessa Madison was the perfect match for David Seaborne.

Meanwhile, on the bridge, Eric Englehorn was beginning to grow a bit nervous about the closeness of Fabrice Rousseau. There were things that the Frenchman knew that the captain of the _Venture_ did not particularly want anyone else to know. Things about that last mission he had refused…

"Eric, my love?"

He spun around to face his wife.

Clytie tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "What's the matter, Eric? You look kinda worried."

Eric swallowed. Sometimes he wondered if Clytie didn't know everything about him. "It's just…" He sighed, frustrated. "Rousseau…" He motioned toward the direction of Fabrice's boat.

Clytie frowned, knowing instinctively that there was something much deeper than simple dislike going on between the French captain and her husband. "Eric, is there something that I should know?"

_What a very good question, Mrs. Englehorn. _Eric pressed his lips together. "I might elaborate later. But for now…" He forced a smile. "Why don't you take a look at these maps with me? You are the expert on sea creatures. I thought you might tell me how far you think this animal could have traveled from the place where it was last spotted…"

Soon, the couple was bent over a map, lost in their calculations and plans, both of them slowly forgetting the close presence of Fabrice Rousseau.

Later that day, Clytie sat alone in the cabin she shared with the captain, lying on the bed and reading her Bible. She was completely engrossed in a chapter from 1 Samuel describing a war between the Israelites and the Philistines when suddenly, the door to the cabin burst open.

Clytie screamed and jumped to her feet on top of the bed.

Jimmy, who had opened the door, hollered as well, jumping back in fright.

Standing on the mattress, Clytie suddenly realized who had come in the room and giggled. "Oh, Jimmy! I'm sorry! I thought you were a Philistine!"

Jimmy laughed loudly, then pointed to the Bible in Clytie's hand. "Funny. Same thing happened to me once. I was reading about the Canaanites and got scared to death when somebody came up to me."

Clytie let out a deep breath and plopped back down on the bed. "What is it, Jimmy?"

Jimmy blushed lightly. "Sorry to burst in on you like that, Clytie. I thought you were in the galley with Mrs. Driscoll and Miss Madison."

"It's all right, Jimmy. What do you need?"

Jimmy held up some papers in his hand. "The captain wanted me to put these in here. So…" He laid them on the desk. "I'll see ya later, Clytie." He nodded to her awkwardly, then left the cabin, closing the door quietly behind him.

Clytie stood up and crossed the room to the desk, her eyes on the papers Jimmy had delivered. She was very tempted to rummage through them. After all, if the captain had instructed them to be laid out on the desk, fairly out in public, they couldn't be anything too private. With these thoughts in mind, Clytie stretched out her hand toward the small stack of papers--then abruptly jerked it back. German words were printed boldly across the top of the first paper. Clytie's knowledge of German was scant, but she instantly recognized her husband's name and former rank in the German navy, as well as a few words he had taught her, such as for and only.

These papers were for Captain Eric Englehorn, and him alone.

Clytie sighed and sat back down on the bed. She was very curious about the papers, but resigned herself to respecting her husband's privacy.

(LINE)

The day passed uneventfully for the passengers and crew of the _Venture. _Everything seemed to be running quite smoothly. Perversely, Clytie almost wished that it wasn't. She was loving being out on the ocean, but… She smiled as she leaned over the railing. She was always up for a little adventure.

By the time the stars appeared, Clytie was yawning. She quickly made her way up to the bridge. "Eric, darling, I think I'm going to bed," she told her husband, barely suppressing another yawn. She gave him a sleepy smile. "Good-night, darling."

Eric crossed the bridge to kiss her lips, stroking the side of her neck with his rough but gentle fingers. "All right, love. You look tired."

"Sweet dreams." She kissed his cheek, then headed off for the cabin she shared with Eric.

Eric watched her go, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. As soon as she was out of sight, he locked the wheel and strode out on the deck in search of Darby. He soon found his First Mate checking the ship's lights. "Mr. Galyon."

The tall, handsome Irishman quickly spun around. "Yes, captain?"

"Have you gotten any rest today?"

"Yes, sir. I had a nap a few hours ago."

"Well, I'd like for you to take the helm for a few hours, Mr. Galyon." The captain looped his thumbs in his belt, trying to look inconspicuous.

Darby raised a dark, curved eyebrow. "Turning in, are ya, Captain Englehorn? I think I just saw your wife on her way to the cabin, so you might find her there."

The captain smiled slowly, crookedly. "Thank-you, Mr. Galyon. That will be all."

(LINE)

When Clytie reached the cabin, she found that she was not as sleepy as she had first thought. "I'm so bored I'm yawning!" she whispered incredulously to herself. She shook her head. "Clytie, you big baby! You're on the voyage of a lifetime, and yet you still manage to be bored!" Disgusted at her restlessness, she dressed in a rose colored nightgown, then dug a book out of her suitcase and spread out on the bunk to read. Her mind kept straying to those personal papers on the captain's desk, but she refused to do anything about them.

Suddenly, the door burst open.

Clytie jumped a bit, then sighed with relief as she watched her husband walk into the cabin.

"You're not sleeping, Clytie?" he asked, shutting the door behind him.

"No. I'm too restless to sleep just yet." She sat up on the bed, laying down her book.

"Me, too," Eric replied with a slight smile.

Clytie raised an eyebrow. Why was he just standing there like that, staring at her? "What is it, Eric?"

One corner of his mouth twitched, and his sharp cerulean eyes sparkled. "You look so… so lovely tonight. I am… enchanted."

Clytie couldn't help but smile. She felt suddenly warm and tingly, pleasantly so. Keeping her eyes on Eric, she stood and slowly walked to stand in front of him. She reached up to touch his face.

Eric closed his eyes as his wife traced his features with her long, slender fingers, swallowing at the sudden tightness in his throat. Surprising her, he caught her fingers in his own and kissed the tips of them, opening his eyes to relish in the pleasant surprise on her face. Still keeping her hand captive, he pulled her close, very close, and bent his head down to softly kiss those rosebud lips whose every contour he now knew.

I'm _the one enchanted… _Clytie thought as her husband's lips captured her own, then moved to tenderly caress her neck. She closed her eyes and smiled, leaning into his embrace. The man knew just what to do to completely and totally seduce her. Clytie thought then that perhaps this was his best quality as a husband…

(LINE)

_Amazing… _Eric Englehorn laid awake on his bunk, with Clytie sleeping beside him. She had one arm thrown over his chest and one leg thrown over his knees. She always slept like that when he was beside her, as close to him as possible. _Amazing, _the ship's captain thought again. _She's so sweet, so innocent, so gentle, yet she can be so passionate and romantic… seductive even… _He smiled. _I'm a lucky man. _

The captain's eyes strayed to the small table where Clytie kept some of her things--her Bible, a few books, some handkerchiefs, a small vial of a lovely citrus perfume. Every time he smelled oranges now, he thought of her.

He turned slightly, careful not to wake her (she was a light sleeper) and kissed her softly on the forehead. _I am truly blessed by you, Clytie Seaborne Englehorn. Your God knew what he was doing when he sent you to me._

(LINE)

Clytie awoke first the next morning. Ever so quietly, she sat up, slid softly past her husband, and stood. She stretched and yawned, feeling quite happy with herself, her husband, and life in general. Silently, she began to dress, stepping into a soft gray colored dress and a pair of comfy black boots.

"Good morning, love," Eric spoke up, sitting up in bed and blinking his blue eyes.

Clytie bit her lip and smiled at him. "Good morning, darling." She sat beside him on the bed, admiring his appearance, as she often did. The bright blue eyes, the crooked smile, the lean, strong chest… _Clytie, must you always blush when you look at him like that? You have every right to admire him! He's your husband!_

"I have a confession to make," Eric said, keeping his face expressionless.

Clytie narrowed her green eyes on him. "Oh?"

"I let myself be seduced last night," he said, his low voice serious.

Clytie fought down a grin. "So did I."

"You were seduced, too?" He raised an eyebrow. "That isn't possible. It was the other way around, as I recall. _You _seduced _me_."

Clytie let herself grin and shook her head. "No. You seduced me." She laughed softly. "It was a very chivalrous seduction, too."

They smiled at each other, their eyes saying more than could words.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

Eric sighed. "Who is it?"

"It's Jimmy, sir."

"What do you need, Jimmy?"

"It's that Frenchman, sir. He says he needs to see you, says it's important. Something about those papers I put on your desk yesterday."

Clytie looked at the papers, then at Eric. "Eric, what is all this about?"

He glanced at her in alarm. "You haven't read them, have you?"

"No." She shook her head. "I was tempted, but I controlled myself. And anyway, my German is not that good."

Eric sighed again, closing his eyes and leaning back on his elbows. "I didn't want this to follow us."

"Didn't want _what _to follow us?" Clytie asked.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, then suddenly looked away.

Clytie bit her lip, knowing that nagging him would not do any good.

"Come on." The captain stood. "Let's get up to the bridge. I have a feeling that before this day is over, you will know everything."

"Everything?" Clytie stood beside her husband, suddenly nervous.

"Don't worry, Clytie," he said, his voice suddenly soft and low, almost a whisper. "I'll take care of things… take care of you…"

She reached to take his hand. "I know you will."

(A/N: I know this chapter may be a bit overromantic/sappy, but... Hey, I'm a girl, and I love a little romance. I hope some of my readers do, too. Anyways, sorry it took so long to get out. I've been working almost 40 hours a week, so, needless to say, I've been busy. And once again, thanks for always reviewing with good encouragement and advice. Keep it up! It keeps me going.)


	4. Poker and Chocolate

Chapter Four

Fabrice Rousseau stood at the railing of his ship, his black eyes narrowed on the deck of the _Venture_. He was determined to prove that he was the better man, the better captain, the better everything than that German Englehorn. He had hoped to do so by beating his competition to the sea monster, but… The Frenchman frowned. Englehorn, his crew, and his new wife were making excellent progress. So now, Fabrice would have to stoop to blackmail.

He shrugged, sighing. A man had to do what he had to do to be the best.

Fabrice's dark eyes were caught by the sight of Captain Englehorn and his bride walking out onto the deck. The girl followed her husband closely, staying just far enough back so that they weren't touching. The Frenchman leaned on the rail and sighed. She was a lovely creature, ethereal and otherworldly almost, yet very much a woman. What right did Englehorn have to end up with something like that? She should be with someone else, someone more cultured, someone more suave…

"Rousseau!"

Fabrice winced. The man had no tact. "Yes, Captain?"

"What do you want?"

Fabrice smiled wolfishly. It was time to put his plan in action. "Actually, if you would be so kind, I would like to board your ship. There are some private matters we need to settle."

Eric clenched his teeth at his rival's words. "Why should I do that?"

"Really, Englehorn. Don't be such an enemy. We're old friends, aren't we?"

"Why can't you just tell me what you want now?" Eric demanded impatiently.

The Frenchman hesitated. Finally, he called, "Invite me over for dinner with you and your wife tonight. Then I'll tell you what you want."

"Pushy, isn't he?" Clytie muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

Eric sighed. "A bit." Then he called out to his rival, "All right, Rousseau. Dinner tonight on my ship, at seven o'clock."

The dark Frenchman's white smile was plainly seen from the deck of the _Venture._ "Good. I'll see you then."

Eric turned his back on Fabrice Rousseau and stalked back onto the bridge, trailed by Clytie, who was quite disturbed by the fact that her husband was so upset with Rousseau.

"Eric, what's going on?" she asked exasperatedly as she followed him onto the bridge. "Please just tell me what it is."

He spun around to face her, and she nearly crashed into him. "Clytie, I can't tell you. Not now."

Clytie bit her lip. They had been through this before. Many times. He had told her things that had brought her pain, but nothing he said could ever destroy her love for him. Why didn't he realize that? "I'm sorry, Eric." She looked away from him and notice that Darby was standing at the wheel, whistling softly and acting like he didn't hear the Englehorns' conversation. She looked back at her husband. "I love you. You do know that, don't you?"

He nodded, holding her gaze with his. "Yes. And I love you." He sighed. "You know how difficult it is for me to--to tell you things that I fear might come between us."

Clytie crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow. "The odds are against that ever happening, you know."

He flashed her a smile. "I know."

Darby cleared his throat. "Captain, Rousseau's ship is moving closer. Do you want me to move away?"

"No." Eric pressed his lips together. "He's coming aboard tonight."

The Irishman's eyes widened. "Rousseau? Coming aboard the _Venture_?"

"Yes," the captain replied shortly. "Keep the course steady. Any animal sightings yet?"

"Jimmy saw two dolphins off the port side an hour ago or so," Darby said.

"Which would mean we're not near our sea monster yet," Clytie spoke up. "Dolphins and sea monsters wouldn't be symbiotic, I don't think."

"I'd say we're a good two days voyage from the last known sighting of this creature. Am I right, Galyon?" Eric asked.

"Yes, Captain. In two days, we'll be there."

A cold, tingling chill ran up Clytie's spine for no particular reason. "Uhm, Eric, I think I'm going to go find Ann or Vanessa, okay?"

"Fine, love. I'll be on the bridge," her husband replied. He took her hand and kissed it, then turned to take the wheel from his first mate.

As Clytie walked off of the bridge, she felt suddenly anxious. And oddly, her anxiety had nothing to do with Fabrice Rousseau.

(LINE)

"Blackjack." Ann smiled giddily and showed her two cards.

Vanessa, Jack, David, Preston, and Bruce groaned.

"Again?" Bruce whined.

Jack grinned and patted Ann's leg. "That's my girl."

She kissed him.

Vanessa tilted her head to the side, studying the couple intently. They were so darned happy together! It made her feel happy, too. She smiled and looked away from them, inadvertently meeting the sparkling hazel eyes of David Seaborne.

David wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she blushed.

"Another game?" Ann asked cheerfully.

David, Preston, and Bruce all said, "No!"

"How about some poker?" said a voice from the doorway of the galley.

Preston turned around. "Come in, Clytie."

"Poker sounds good," Bruce spoke up. "But no betting, right?"

"Right," Jack agreed. "Some of us work hard for the little money that we get."

The actor missed the edge in the writer's voice. "All right then. Sit down, Mrs. Englehorn." He moved aside so that she could sit beside him, but she managed to slip around him and squeeze in between Ann and David.

In no time at all, the players were involved in a mighty poker battle, betting with old candy Hofstetter had found for them.

"I'll raise you ten," Ann said, sliding a piece of peppermint (which stood for ten) into the growing pile in the center of the table.

"Fold," said Preston immediately.

Bruce and Vanessa also folded.

"Heck, I'll raise you _another _ten!" David proclaimed boldly.

Jack shook his head and laid his cards face-down on the table. "I'm keeping _my _candy."

"Twenty." Clytie slid a number of candies into the pile, grinning crookedly at David and Ann.

Ann groaned. "Seabornes."

"Anyone else going to raise it?" David asked, trying to stare down his opponents.

Clytie studied him carefully. Then a grin spread across her face. "He's bluffing," she announced steadily.

David frowned at her. "No I'm not." He slid a piece of taffy into the pile. "There. See?"

Clytie shook her head and matched his bet. Ann followed suit.

"I'll raise it again." David tossed another peppermint into the growing mound of candy.

"See? Told you." Clytie replied, thumping a peppermint into the pile.

Ann sighed and laid down her cards. "I know David's bluffing, but I don't think I could take Clytie."

Clytie grinned, then raised her eyebrows at David. "What are you going to do now, brother dearest?"

David glanced down at his small stash of candy and grimaced. "No more bets, sis."

The siblings laid their hands face up. Clytie had been right. David had a pair of threes. And Clytie had a royal straight.

Clytie scooped the massive pile of candy toward herself. "Wonderful game. I think I'll just leave now with my winnings."

"How about you and me play a game of chess for that candy?" Preston spoke up, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Clytie winced. "I don't think so. You'd cream me." She stood, looking down at her candy with a frown. "What am I going to do with all these sweets?" She looked around the table at her friends. "I'll just take all the chocolate pieces, and you all split the rest up."

"Come one, Clytie!" Jack groaned in mock annoyance. "The chocolate is the best part."

Clytie grinned at him and grabbed up a handful of wrapped chocolates. "There. Split up the rest and keep playing."

"Where are you going?" Vanessa asked curiously.

"Darby said that Jimmy saw some dolphins a while back. I'm going to take some binoculars and go look for more," Clytie explained. "You know how much I love dolphins."

"I'll go with you," Ann said quickly, sliding her candy into Jack's pile. She stood up, bending to give her husband a peck on the cheek, then hurried to join Clytie in the doorway. "Vanessa, do you want to come?"

The dark haired girl glanced quickly at David, then back to Ann. "No, but thank-you," she said, smiling. "I'm enjoying these card games too much."

Ann and Clytie shared a knowing smile, then left the galley to look for dolphins.

(LINE)

Jimmy walked onto the bridge and went directly to the captain. "Sir, your wife said to give you this."

Eric turned around and held out his hand. One eyebrow raised when he saw what Clytie had sent. "Candy?"

Jimmy shrugged. "She said you might like it."

The captain smiled and set the little chocolate piece down on his desk. "Send her my thanks. What is she up to, by the way?"

"She's with Ann. They've got your binoculars, and they're looking for dolphins."

Eric fought a smile. He was glad Ann Driscoll had come along. She and Clytie were good for each other. "Good. Keep an eye on them for me, Jimmy."

"Yes, sir." Jimmy nodded and jogged off the bridge.

Eric finished writing in his log, savored the candy his wife had sent to him, then walked to where Darby was standing at the wheel. "How are things running, Mr. Galyon?"

"The ship's fine, Captain, and the passengers and cargo as well," Darby reported. Then he frowned. "But I don't like the looks of those clouds on the horizon. And the wind has taken a sudden change. There may be a storm brewing."

Eric sighed. "I believe you are right, Mr. Galyon." Yes, there would be storms that night. And the captain was certain that one would take place on his ship at seven o' clock.

(A/N: Once again, sorry it took me so long to get this out. I just recently watched the movie again, and many thoughts ran through my head, such as "Englehorn is so hot," and "I'd better get back to work on my story." Haha. So, thanks once again to all those who are keeping up with my story! Much love and many prayers (such as, "Dear God, please let me get some good reviews!" lol)!)


	5. Storms and Rumors

Thanks again (for the six hundred and seventy-fifth time) to all of my reviewers!

Chapter Five

Clytie immerged from the captain's cabin wearing an elegant pale blue dress, elbow-length silver gloves, and silver high-heeled slippers. Her long red-gold hair was clipped back on one side by a silk flower. Her neck and ears were adorned with a beautiful pearl set. She stood just outside the door for a moment and took a deep breath, apprehensive about the dinner that was about to take place.

At that moment, Eric came around the corner, dressed in a clean blue shirt and stiff khakis. He stopped walking as soon as he saw his wife. "Clytie," he said quietly, holding out his hand. His eyes followed her as she took his hand and came to stand close to him.

"Eric," she replied, smiling up at him. "You look quite nice."

"And you, my love…" He couldn't help it. He smiled. "You look breath-taking."

"Oh, Eric." She blushed lightly and bit her lip, looking up at him with huge green eyes.

"I mean it, Clytie." He brushed her forehead lightly with his lips. "The moment I saw you standing there, I stopped breathing."

She grinned at him and moved closer.

"Come here, wife." He suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tightly against his chest. "There. That's better."

"Eric! Rousseau will be here any minute!" Clytie exclaimed in a nervous whisper.

"I don't care," her husband replied. He bent down his head to kiss her lips, satisfied when she forgot her anxiety and met his passion with her own. After a long embraced, he slowly (and quite reluctantly) let her go.

Clytie stepped back from him, grinning and retaining her grip on his hand.

"You look lovely with that color in your cheeks," Eric remarked, smiling crookedly. "I just had to put it there."

"Thank-you," Clytie replied.

"Good evening, my friends."

The Englehorns spun around, still holding hands. And there he stood, Fabrice Rousseau, decked out in a black tuxedo with tails.

Eric raised his eyebrows incredulously and shook his head. "Welcome to the _Venture_, Captain Rousseau." _You preening, self-worshipping--_

"Are you hungry, captains?" Clytie's voice interrupted her husband's train of thought, which annoyed him slightly. She gave Eric a warning glance, as if reading his thoughts.

He gave her a crooked smile. "Famished." Swiftly, he linked his arm through hers and turned back toward their cabin. He glanced over his shoulder at Rousseau, barely able to hold in a grimace, and said, "Come with us. Dinner awaits."

(LINE)

_Hofstetter has really outdone himself tonight. _Clytie glanced around the table in surprise. _Grilled salmon? Garlic bread? Pasta? Champagne? _She shook her head. _I'm not sure that I want to know. Jimmy probably stole it for him…_

"So… Captain Englehorn, Clytie… I suppose that now is the time to reveal my purpose for coming aboard your ship this evening," Fabrice spoke up, gesturing elegantly with his champagne glass.

Eric, already rankled at his rival's use of Clytie's given name, steeled himself for what he knew was coming. "Go ahead," he said tightly.

The Frenchman turned his black eyes on Clytie. "Mademoiselle, what I have to say concerns you more than it concerns your husband. I suspect…" He glanced at the German captain with a sly smile, then turned back to Clytie. "I suspect that he already knows what it is I am going to say."

Clytie lifted her chin and fixed the black-eyed man with a cool stare. "You may address me as 'Madame,' for as you know, I am a married woman."

"Yes, of course, of course. My mistake." Fabrice ran a nervous hand through his long, silky black hair. "It is just that you--you look so young, so young to be married to Captain Englehorn."

"Get on with it, Rousseau," Eric growled.

Fabrice shot a dark look at the other captain, then turned his attentions back on Clytie. "Your husband, my dear _Madame_, has been receiving communiqués from Germany."

Clytie's mind flashed back to those papers Eric had shoved into his desk before the Frenchman's arrival onboard the ship. "Yes?"

"Yes. Many of his missions to capture animals are also missions to… How shall I put this?… to _spy _on the countries in which the animals reside." Fabrice leaned back in his chair with an air of satisfaction. "Your husband, my dear, is… or rather, _was_… a spy for Germany."

Clytie swallowed. "All right." She glanced at Eric for confirmation. He gave her a quick nod, smiling tightly. "And?" She turned back to the French captain. "He's not a spy now." _Is he? _

"No. Indeed he is not." Fabrice swirled his champagne around in its glass, his dark eyes focused on the spinning bubbles. "It would seem that _you_, Clytie, changed his mind about many things, including allegiance to his country."

"I am still loyal to my country, Rousseau," Eric snapped. "It is this… this new order that I oppose."

"Hitler, you mean?" Fabrice questioned, raising a perfect eyebrow.

"Yes. You know that already. What are you getting at?"

The Frenchman smiled. "Clytie… You are a loyal American, are you not?"

"Yes. I suppose I am." She frowned. "What are you trying to say?"

"Betrayal is far from admirable, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes." Dread made a hard, cold knot in Clytie's gut. What was Rousseau going to say?

"Your husband, Madame, is a traitor to his country," Fabrice said coolly, smiling.

Eric jumped to his feet. "Shut up, Rousseau! I'll have no more of this!"

"You abandon your country in a time of need and then deny that you are a traitor?" The Frenchman laughed coldly. "I see no honor in that."

"And I see no honor in you," Eric shot back. "It is you who betrays your country. You know that I know about your communications with Berlin. Do you think that Hitler has good plans for France?"

"France needs help, Monsieur," Fabrice insisted hotly, rising elegantly to his feet. "And if it takes an invasion to get that help, then so be it!"

"You're a fool, Rousseau," Eric exclaimed. He swore. "How would an invasion help your country? _You _are the traitor!"

"Absolutely not! An alliance with Germany is just what France needs!" Rousseau argued. "And if they have to be conquered in order to obtain that alliance, then so be it!"

Clytie stood quickly, causing the table to shake. "Stop it! Both of you!"

The two captains turned to face her. Eric's eyes were steely and cold, and Fabrice's were fiery with rage.

Clytie turned to address the Frenchman. "Captain Rousseau, I don't know what you are trying to accomplish by this, but if you cannot eat a peaceable meal with us, then I suggest you leave."

Fabrice started to say something, then bit his lip and plopped into his chair, glaring at his rival's wife.

"Eric…" Clytie's voice was pleading as she turned to her husband. She motioned to his chair, biting her lip.

He sat slowly, holding her gaze, then looked at the other captain. "My wife is right. Leave if you came here only to argue politics."

Fabrice did not meet Eric's eyes. "I did not come here only to argue." He smiled, his gaze fixed on the pasta dish. "I came here to make you an offer."

"An offer?" Eric's voice was thick with sarcasm. "Just what kind of offer can you make that might interest me?"

"An offer of silence." Fabrice finally locked gazes with his rival. "I want this sea monster, Englehorn. It's discovery will be mine." He buffed his neat, clean fingernails on his sleeve. "I want you to end your pursuit of it, in return for my silence on the matter of your… past."

The room was suddenly filled with a cold, heavy silence.

"That's not a fair deal," Clytie said suddenly, crossing her arms and sitting down. "His past is over. It wasn't even that bad. Who are you going to tell about it anyway?"

"The port authorities in New York City," Fabrice said with a smile. "I'm sure they won't be two happy about letting a former German spy dock in their port." He raised an eyebrow at Clytie. "And then there's your family. I'm sure they will not approve of you traveling around the world with your husband if he's had dealings with… What do they call themselves?… Nazis?"

"That's enough, Rousseau!" Eric exclaimed. "We've had enough of this. I suggest you get back to your ship--"

"Before you what?" Fabrice interrupted. "Are you going to threaten me with violence? That was always your style, wasn't it, Englehorn?"

Eric gritted his teeth and stood, hands on his hips. But before he could say anything, there was a deafening peal of thunder.

Clytie hopped to her feet, once again rattling everything on the table. "The storm!" she exclaimed.

Fabrice paled. "I'd best get back to my ship." He stood and walked to the cabin door. "But this isn't over, Englehorn. I expect your answer tomorrow." He slammed the door behind him, leaving the Englehorns together alone.

Clytie immediately skirted her way around the table (managing to bump into a chair and knock over an empty mug) to her husband's side. "Eric… I'm sorry," she said softly, looping her arm through his and leaning her head on his shoulder. She couldn't think of anything else to say and so was silent.

For a moment, he said nothing in reply. Then he said quietly, "I'm going to the bridge." He slipped out of her grasp and left the cabin.

Clytie sighed and leaned her hands on the table, bowing her head. What a mess… _Frankly, I don't care what his past was. I love him, but my godfather… that's another matter. And the port in New York… _She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. _God, this one's yours. I don't think we can handle it ourselves…_

(LINE)

Eric Englehorn stood at the wheel of his ship, his blue eyes large, taking in the daunting scene before him. The sea ahead was roiling and boiling under clouds so dark they were almost black. Rain poured down, sheet lightning flashed, and thunder crashed. And the _Delphine _had drifted far away from the _Venture._ The sleek ship was being tossed and bobbed on the water like a child's toy. It was too far away now for Captain Fabrice Rousseau to board it.

Eric gritted his teeth. He had half a mind to toss the Frenchman overboard and tell him to _swim _back to his ship…

"Take me to my ship, Captain!" Fabrice ordered from behind him. "I must get back on my ship!"

"Are you an idiot, Rousseau?" Eric did not take his eyes from the horizon or his hands from the wheel (even though he entertained the thought of planting a fist on his rival's elegant nose). "Do you want our ships to collide? There is no way I am sailing close to your ship in this storm. That would be unthinkable."

Fabrice let fly a French curse, then started pacing the bridge, fancy coattails flapping.

Then, the _Venture _hit the rough part of the storm. The ship shuddered and bucked on the waves, vibrating with every crash of thunder.

"Captain Rousseau, I suggest you get to the galley before this gets any worse," Eric ordered, half hoping the other man would have some sort of mishap on the way.

Fabrice stalked off the bridge, making sure to stay close to the ship's railings.

"Captain!" Darby Galyon rushed onto the bridge. "The _Delphine _is out of sight. She just vanished!"

"Looks like we're stuck with Rousseau," Eric muttered. More loudly, he added, "Speed us up a few knots, Mr. Galyon. I want us out of this storm as soon as possible."

(LINE)

Down in the galley, Jack, Ann, David, Vanessa, Preston, and Bruce were surprised to see Fabrice Rousseau, drenched to the skin, burst through the doors and plop down with a pout on one of the benches.

"It must be pretty rough out there, eh?" Jack spoke up, attempting to make conversation.

"I suppose you could call it that," the Frenchman replied, turning his back on the passengers of the _Venture. _

"I feel a bit queasy, myself," Vanessa piped in

Fabrice was silent.

"Anyone for a game of chess?" Preston asked.

Everyone groaned.

Then, Fabrice turned around, narrowing his eyes on the little group. "Aren't you that playwright?" he asked, motioning with an elegant hand toward Jack. "Driscoll?"

Jack nodded. "That would be me."

Fabrice smiled. This could work to his advantage. Before boarding Englehorn's ship, he had made sure to research the man's entire team by contacting some friends in New York City by wireless. And he had discovered some very interesting facts about them. "Mr. Driscoll, I'm interested in writing, myself," he lied effortlessly. "Mostly, though, I am interested in nonfiction. But… I'd like some advice."

Jack raised an eyebrow, perhaps suspiciously; Fabrice wasn't sure. "Well, Mr. Rousseau, what kind of advice do you need?"

"Well actually… There's this story that I want to get out, but I'm a bit afraid to." Fabrice leaned forward, clasping his hands together in front of him. "You see, it's about a mutual friend of ours…"

(LINE)

"Jimmy! It looks like that lamp got knocked loose! Go secure it!" Clytie hollered over the noise of waves and wind and rain and thunder.

"Yes, ma'am!" Jimmy called, running to obey.

The two of them had been running all over the ship during the storm, making sure that everyone and everything was safe. To Clytie, it had felt good to get her mind off of the events of the dinner disaster. She glanced around, steadying herself as the ship rocked, and found nothing else that needed her attention on deck. Then she glanced up at the bridge. That's where she would go.

Clytie was almost to the steps when someone grabbed her arm. She spun around.

There stood Ann, soaked by the rain, blonde curls wild around her face. "Clytie! I need to speak with you!"

"All right. Come to the bridge with me." The urgent tone in her friend's voice made Clytie instantly nervous.

The two women climbed the stairs to the bridge and went inside.

"Eric, I'm going to talk with Ann," Clytie announced, thinking how trivial that sounded in the midst of such a storm. But somehow, she knew this was important.

"All right. After you're through, I'll need you up here," Eric replied.

Clytie gave him a nod, then led Ann to another section of the bridge. "What is it, Ann?" she asked quietly, her green eyes wide.

"It's that Rousseau man," Ann whispered, grabbing Clytie's arm. "He's down in the galley, with the other passengers."

"What's he doing?" Clytie asked worriedly.

"I'm not sure what his purpose is, but…" Ann bit her lip. "He's spreading awful rumors, Clytie--about all of us. He says they're true."

"What kind of rumors, Ann?"

"The worst are about the captain," Ann whispered, her green-blue eyes intense. "Rousseau says he was a German spy." She grimaced. "And he said some ugly things about Jack, too. And Preston. And David. And you."

"What kind of things?" Clytie asked shakily.

"He talked about Jack and Preston's involvement with Carl, partially blaming them for what happened with--with Kong. And David… He talked about the bride-search, making it sound like David's a playboy. Then he called you a traitor, Clytie, for marrying the captain."

Clytie's eyes were huge. "He said all this? Out loud?"

Ann shook her head. "No. Not out loud. He talked to everyone individually. I just happened to overhear it all." She looked down. "The worst thing is, Clytie, it's all partially true… But he twists it. I know David's not a womanizer. And your husband's no spy!" She looked up, her eyes meeting Clytie's. "Is he?"

Clytie shivered. "Ann…"

Ann took her friend's hands. "I just thought I'd warn you. He may say something about _you _next."

Clytie lifted her chin (it was "the Seaborne look") and said, "That little snake is just trying to make us suspicious of each other. That's what he's doing."

"Clytie!" Eric called from the wheel.

"Coming!" She gave Ann a quick smile. "Thanks for telling me. Make sure everyone else knows that all he's doing is spreading rumors, okay?"

Ann nodded, and Clytie ran to join her husband.

(A/N: The seeds of suspicion have been planted… What do you think is going to happen next? Anyways, thanks again for all your encouraging reviews! Keep up your good work and I'll keep up mine!)


	6. In Sickness and In Health

Chapter Six

By the time the ship made it through the storm, Clytie was soaked, freezing, tired, and more than a little ill, especially concerning the actions of a certain French captain. Her husband had ordered her to rest in their cabin, an order which she intended to follow willingly. As soon as she made it to the cabin, she shut the door behind her and dropped onto the bunk with a weary sigh. She had intended to change into something dry, but found herself too tired to get up. And so she drifted off to sleep…

"Clytie! Clytie!"

Her green eyes opened slowly. "Eric? What's going on?"

"Nothing, love. I just thought you might want to change into something dry before you go to bed." He was looking at her with concern. "Come on. I'll help you dress for bed. You look exhausted."

"I am," she managed, sitting up slowly. Her head was pounding, and her back and sides hurt for some reason. She took Eric's offered hand and stood, allowing him to unbutton the back of her dress and slip it from her shoulders.

"You're skin is freezing!" the captain exclaimed, suddenly clutching her to him. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I think I'm just tired," Clytie replied, smiling lazily. His arms and chest were so warm. "Can we just stay like this?"

Eric raised an eyebrow at her as he quickly undressed and slipped into a pair of pajama pants. "No, Clytie, we can't. You need to sleep. I don't think you are well." He took her gently by the shoulders and guided her to sit back down on the bed. Then, he went to the small closet and took out one of her nightgowns, a long, white, flowing thing. "Here."

Clytie took the nightgown and put it on, then just sat there on the edge of the bed. For some reason, she was having a hard time concentrating, and it was bothering her. "Eric…" Her eyelids refused to stay opened. "Eric, where are you?"

"Right here, Clytie." He turned down the lantern and sat beside her on the bed, taking her into his arms. "If you're not better in the morning, I'm going to have Hofstetter take a look at you," he said, lying down and drawing her down with him.

"I'll be fine, darling," Clytie whispered, snuggling up to him. "I'm just worn out. Today has been so…" She fell asleep before she could finish her sentence.

And then, she dreamed.

_She was running through a hot, humid jungle. There was a stitch in her side, and it hurt to breathe too deeply. She knew that she was running from a man, a spy. And if he caught her, he would hurt her, maybe even kill her._

_She dodged behind a short, thick-trunked tree, hoping to catch her breath. Oh, but it hurt to breathe like that! And it was so hot!_

_Suddenly, arms reached out and caught her. The spy! He had her! _

"_Let me go!" she cried, beating his chest with her fists._

_But he wouldn't. He just laughed and tightened his grip on her painfully. _

_To her horror, he suddenly drew a knife from his belt. He pulled it back from her, smiling, preparing to plunge it into her body._

_Clytie screamed and squeezed her eyes shut…_

Then she opened her eyes. Everything was dark. Where was she? Was she still in the jungle? She couldn't be! The substance beneath her rocked rhythmically, and there was a soothing, steady sound… Waves! She was on a ship! But the air was still stiflingly hot, and it still hurt to breathe. Slowly, Clytie stood, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

When they did, she gasped in shock. She had been lying on a bed--with the spy! She glanced around quickly for an escape, her limbs trembling violently. She had a sudden urge to cough, but swallowed it down, afraid that she would wake the man she believed to be her captor. And then, finally, she saw a door.

(LINE)

As soon as Eric awoke, he knew that something was amiss. For one thing, it was the slamming of a door that had awakened him. And for another thing…

Clytie!

Eric jumped out of bed and moved quickly to the door. He opened it and ran into the hallway, looking around frantically for his wife. He knew instinctively that she was not simply going for a walk. Something was wrong…

"Stay away from me!" hissed a voice from the shadows.

"Clytie!" Eric turned toward her at the sound of her voice. "What's the matter? Are you all right?"

"Let me go!" she pleaded, backing away from him. She was moving toward the stairway that led to the deck. "Just let me go!"

"Clytie, it's me--Eric, your husband," Eric said soothingly, realizing that she was having a nightmare.

Her next words pinched at his heart.

"No! I'm not married! You're a spy! A spy!" And with that, she turned and darted to the deck.

Eric stood still for a moment, shocked and hurt. Then, he sprinted after her, afraid that she might hurt herself in her sleepwalking state. When he immerged on the deck, Clytie was standing at the stern of the ship, clutching the railing. A cold wind whipped her white nightgown tight against her body.

"Clytie! Step back from there!" Eric called to her. His heart pounded hard and heavy in his chest.

Clytie didn't seem to hear him and continued to stare out at the ocean.

Slowly, quietly, Eric advanced toward her. When he was within arm's reach of her, he reached out and grabbed her.

"No!" she cried. "Let me go! Let me go!" She twisted around in his arms and began to struggled, slapping at his arms and pounding her fists on his chest. Finally, she took hold of his shoulders and shook him.

Eric let loose a German curse as a sharp pain shot up his left shoulder, the one that had been wounded on his last visit to Skull Island. "Clytie, wake up!" he commanded through clenched teeth.

Clytie suddenly burst into hysterical sobs. "Go ahead! Take me! You've won!"

"Snap out of it, Clytie!" Eric shouted. He drew back his hand and slapped her face.

Clytie stopped crying immediately, blinking her eyes rapidly. She looked around, disoriented, then finally fixed her gaze on him. "Eric?" Her voice trembled. "What's happening? Why do I feel like this?" She reached up to touch her face.

Eric winced at the sight of the red hand print on her cheek. "You were having a nightmare, sleepwalking. I had to wake you up before you hurt yourself, so I… slapped you."

"No… That's not it… I…" She closed her eyes and swayed on her feet. "My chest hurts, and I'm so hot… Eric…" She suddenly went limp.

Eric caught her up in his arms and held her close. "Clytie! Clytie!" he cried.

She dangled loosely from his arms, completely unconscious.

It was then when he realized that her skin was burning hot to the touch. He knew at that moment that his wife was very sick. He glanced around the deck frantically. Where was his crew? Finally, he spotted Jimmy coming up from the lower decks.

"Jimmy!" Eric called. "Go get Hofstetter! Tell him to meet me in my cabin! Clytie is sick."

Jimmy nodded, his big eyes even larger than normal, and hurried to obey his captain.

Eric returned to his cabin, holding Clytie tightly to him. As he set her down gently on the bed, he realized that his hands were shaking. He collapsed to his knees by the bunk and took Clytie's limp hand between his shaking ones. His worry for her was like a physical pain in his gut. _Oh, God, please let her be all right… Please…_

"Captain?"

"Come in, Hofstetter." Eric quickly stood and moved aside.

"What happened?" the small, dark man asked, kneeling at Clytie's bedside.

"I woke up and she was gone. I went looking for her and found her out in the hallway, talking and walking in her sleep. She was hysterical. She ran up to the deck… ran from _me_. She didn't recognize me. I finally caught up with her, and she fought me. I had to slap her to bring her around. That woke her up. She said my name, then fainted." Eric reached into his desk drawer for a cigarette and some matches. His hands were shaking so badly, he could barely light the smoke. "She's burning up with fever."

Hofstetter, cook and former medical student, was carefully examining his new patient. His hands, the only big part of his body besides his brown eyes, gently brushed over Clytie's forehead. "Yes, she's hot." He reached into the small bag beside him and drew out a thermometer, inserting it into her mouth. "And I don't like the sound of her breathing. She sounds badly congested."

Eric drew heavily on his cigarette, nearly choking himself. "What do you think is wrong with her?"

"I'm hoping it's not pneumonia," the little cook said quietly. "I saw her running around on the deck in the rain…"

"Pneumonia." Eric took the cigarette from between his lips and ground it into the ashtray on his desk. "Pneumonia…" he said again, closing his eyes and leaning back his head. _Not my Clytie. God wouldn't take her from me…_

Suddenly, the door to the cabin burst open. "I heard that Clytie was sick. I'm here to help," Ann Driscoll declared.

Hofstetter stood up and faced her. "All right. Go get me some wet cloths--cool ones. We've got to lower her fever. It's already a hundred and two."

Ann nodded and quickly left the room.

"What can I do?" Eric asked, his blue eyes trained on his wife's still form.

"Actually, I'd like you sit with her and talk to her. Keep her comfortable." Hofstetter gently took the thermometer from her mouth. "It would be best if we kept her awake. If it's pneumonia, she needs to stay at least a little bit active so that the phlegm won't harden up too much in her lungs."

"All right." Eric crossed the cabin and sat down on the bed beside his wife. "Clytie," he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder.

Clytie's eyelids fluttered, but she did not awaken.

"Come on, Clytie." Eric took his wife in his arms, leaning her against his chest. "Wake up for me, _liebchen._"

Clytie stirred against him. "Eric?"

"It's me, love. You're going to be all right." He rocked her softly, like she was a child, hoping that somehow, what he was doing was helping her.

"My head hurts," Clytie said quietly. She laid one hand on his chest. He could feel her eyelashes flutter against his skin.

"Ann is bringing cold cloths," said Hofstetter reassuringly. "We'll get you better soon, Mrs. Englehorn."

Eric hoped and prayed that this was so. And in his concern and worry for his wife, he had completely forgotten about the fancy Frenchman aboard his ship…


	7. Romance and Rivalry

Chapter Seven

"So I was thinking, if it's a boy, we'll call him Nathan. Do you like that name?" Ann asked softly as she patted Clytie's burning forehead with a cold, wet rag.

Clytie, weak and barely conscious in the arms of her husband, nodded. "Yes… Nathan… Nice…"

Ann smiled at her sick friend. "I'm glad you think so. And if the baby is a girl, we are thinking of calling her Miranda."

"That's pretty." Clytie smiled tiredly, then winced as her chest was clenched in a painful cough.

Ann bit her lip. She felt nearly sick herself, sick with worry for her friend. She glanced covertly at Eric Englehorn. Clytie's husband was pale, his sharp blue eyes trained on his wife's face, his arms gentle and strong around her. It was strikingly obvious how much he cared about her.

"Ann?"

Ann glanced over her shoulder as Jack entered the room. "I'm right here," she said. She could tell that Jack felt a bit awkward at the sight of sickness. He usually did. "We'll have Clytie better in no time, won't we?"

"I hope so," Clytie and Eric said in unison.

Jack clasped his long-fingered hands in front of him. "Uhm… Captain? There's something I need to tell you."

"Yes, Mr. Driscoll?" Eric settled his wife down gently against the pile of pillows on the bed, taking her hand and sitting beside her.

"It's about Rousseau."

Ann shook her head. That Frenchman was causing far too much trouble! "What's he doing now, Jack?"

"He's trying to talk the crew into heading for Greenland," Jack said.

Eric muttered something under his breath (which Ann was glad she didn't quite catch), then said, "He's trying to go after the sea creature." The captain slammed his fist into his palm. "I told Mr. Galyon to set a course for Newfoundland. Clytie needs a doctor."

"Darby's doing what he can," Jack assured him. "But some of the others are starting to agree with Rousseau. And… It looks like we're in for a snowstorm."

"We're that far north already?" Clytie asked quietly.

"Yeah. Soon, we'll be in Newfoundland to get you a doctor," Jack said, smiling encouragingly at his sick friend.

Ann handed the cool cloth to Eric and stood. "I'm going to take a walk with Jack, if that's all right," she said.

"That's fine." The captain nodded. "Thank-you for your help."

Ann joined her husband in the doorway, looping her arm through his.

(LINE)

Clytie and her husband had many things in common. One of those things was an extreme frustration at their own weaknesses. And right now, Clytie was feeling very weak and very frustrated. Her sides and head ached. One minute, she felt cold, and the next, she was hot. Her throat itched, and it stung when she coughed. In fact, _everything _hurt when she coughed.

"Eric. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry about, love?" he asked, looking up from his desk.

"I'm keeping you cooped up in here," Clytie said, her fingers restlessly pulling at the fitted sheet beneath her.

Eric turned to look at her, his bright blue eyes moving like a caress over her face and form. "I don't mind being cooped up with _you_, Clytie." He stood and crossed the cabin to sit beside her on the bunk. Gently, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "You are my wife, Clytie Englehorn. There is nowhere I'd rather be than with you."

Clytie bit her lip and summoned all of her strength to squeeze his hand. Then, embarrassingly and unromantically, she broke into a harsh, aching cough.

Eric caught her up in his strong arms and held her against his chest as she struggled to regain her breath. When she had finally stopped coughing and settled weakly against him, he murmured into her hair, "I hope to God Galyon gets us to Newfoundland soon."

"I'll get better without a doctor, Eric. We have a mission," Clytie argued hoarsely.

"No mission is more important to me than you," the captain replied firmly, kissing her neck just under her ear.

Clytie turned to kiss his lips. How well she knew how much he valued her! He had given up the last mission for her… and for his principles, she suspected.

Suddenly, a very unpleasant cold chill shook Clytie to the bones.

"Are you all right?" Eric asked quickly.

"I'm fine," she replied. "Besides having a chest infection." She gave him a forced smile. But deep inside, she knew where that shudder had come from--fear--fear that one day, someone very powerful might be very angry at Captain Eric Englehorn for refusing to go on a mission for Germany's Adolf Hitler.

(LINE)

Jack stood on the bridge beside Darby, watching Fabrice Rousseau. It irked him that the French ship's captain insisted in being on the bridge. Obviously, the man was preparing to cause some trouble. Even now, Fabrice's black eyes glittered with some dark emotion as he watched Darby steer the ship.

"You know, Mr. Galyon… Clytie is a strong woman. She'll probably recover quite swiftly. Why, by the time we're close to Greenland and Iceland, she'll be back on her feet, I'm sure," Fabrice insisted.

"The captain's not taking that chance, Mr. Rousseau," Darby replied.

Jack was sure that the Irishman purposefully refrained from calling Fabrice by his title as captain.

"I understand that he cares very deeply for his wife," Fabrice said, nodding sympathetically.

"He does," said Darby briefly. He glanced quickly at Jack, his eyebrows meeting questioningly.

Jack knew what he meant; Darby, like Jack, was wondering what Fabrice was getting at now.

"Do you think, perhaps, that your captain's feelings for his wife are interfering with his good judgment?" Fabrice asked slowly, his voice well-modulated and conspiratorial.

"No. I don't think that at all, lad," Darby said quickly. "The whole crew is concerned for Mrs. Englehorn. We all like her. She's a brave lass, she is, and a good wife to the captain." He cast a frown on the Frenchman. "I trust the captain's judgment. If he wants to head to shore for the health of his wife, that's fine by me."

Fabrice seemed to ignore Darby's answer and turned to Jack. "And what do you passengers think of all this? You've come aboard solely to witness the discovery of this Leviathan creature. Aren't you a little disappointed that its finding will be delayed?"

Jack grinned and crossed his arms. "No. Not at all. Clytie is a close friend of mine. I'm glad we're getting her to a doctor."

Fabrice raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And are the rest of the passengers on such close terms with Mrs. Englehorn?"

"I'd say yes, they are." Jack stretched his long limbs, satisfied to have disappointed Fabrice's hopes. "I'd best be getting to the galley. It's almost time for breakfast."

(LINE)

Vanessa Star Madison shivered and hugged herself. She knew that just outside the galley door, it was snowing. She loved the snow, but… For some reason, she felt so _cold, _not outside, so much as inside. Clytie being sick, that Rousseau fellow bothering and annoying everyone, a sea monster lurking out there somewhere… It was all so _wrong._

"Vanessa? Are you all right?" David whispered from his place beside her.

She flashed him a smile. "Yes. I'm fine. It's just…" Her smile faded. "I'm worried, David." Her blue eyes were dark. "I feel like I'm not--not in this world. Everything is so strange and out of place."

David didn't say anything. He only scooted closer to her and slid an arm around her shoulders. He knew that she was fanciful and sensitive, that she had odd thoughts, like Clytie and Ann and Jack. It was just one of many things that made him love her more.

Vanessa laid her brunette head against the young archaeologist's shoulder. "I hope Clytie will get better," she whispered fervently.

David closed his eyes, sobered by the mention of Clytie's sickness, oddly excited by the nearness of Vanessa Star. "Me, too, Vessy," he replied softly.

In another corner of the galley, Jimmy and Preston were engaged in a checkers match. Jimmy watched Preston carefully as the other young man considered his next move. Preston was silent, absolutely silent. He was concentrating far harder than usual and was playing far more badly.

"It's not the same without Clytie, is it?" Jimmy asked quietly.

Preston met his friend's eyes and slowly shook his head.

Jimmy chewed on his lower lip and leaned back. "I sure hope she gets better."

"She will," Preston said quickly, moving a bishop. "Englehorn is taking us to Newfoundland to get a doctor."

Jimmy nodded absently, randomly choosing a piece to move.

(LINE)

Her voice stirred him from his restless dreams, and he awoke.

"Eric… What did I say to you?"

Eric rolled onto his side to face his wife. She turned her head to look at him, her green eyes large and worried. "What do you mean, Clytie?"

"When I was… delirious. What did I say to you? I remember screaming something at you, and then you… There was this look in your eyes… It was dreadful." She frowned. "What did I _say_?"

He didn't want to tell her. It had hurt him. He was sure it would hurt her. "It was nothing, Clytie. Just gibberish. It doesn't matter, love." He sat up and drew her into his arms. His stomach clenched painfully at her weakness, her limpness. At least she wasn't feverish anymore…

Clytie coughed raggedly, then looked up at him, sagging against his strong chest. "Eric… Tell me what I said."

How could he deny any question those green eyes asked him? "You called me a spy," he said quietly. "You thought I was going to hurt you. You ran from me, fought me."

"Oh." She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were trying to shrink away from him but couldn't quite do it. "I remember now. The nightmare…" She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Eric. Really I am." Eyelids lifted, and there was green again. "I don't think you're a spy," she whispered. "I don't."

"But I was once," he whispered back.

"I don't care."

He squeezed her tightly against him. "I love you, Clytie."

"I love you, too," she whispered faintly, so faintly.

He held onto her as if he could give part of his strength to her by clinging to her, as if he could perhaps keep her in his world a little longer by hanging on. He prayed that it was so.

"We'll be in Newfoundland soon, love. Don't worry. There will be a doctor there…"

"I'm not worried, Eric," she said. "Everything will be all right."

Suddenly, things were all switched around. _She _was the one comforting _him. _

"I don't want to lose you, Clytie." He buried his face in her hair.

"I don't think you will," she whispered. "I can feel my strength returning. We don't have to go to a doctor if you don't want to. We can keep going. We have a sea monster to catch, you know."

He could hear the smile in her voice, and it made him feel better, more sure of her recovery. "That sea monster isn't going anywhere. He'll be waiting for us when we get there."

She nodded into his shoulder and murmured something he couldn't quite catch. Then, she was asleep.

He was quiet for a moment, listening to her breathing. It didn't sound quite as harsh and congested as it had before. Maybe she was right. Maybe she had never had pneumonia, just some horrible fever that was swiftly fading. Then he frowned. He wasn't going to take that chance. He had taken chances before in his life, even _with _his life. But he was never going to take chances with the life of this woman in his arms, his wife, Clytie Seaborne Englehorn.

(LINE)

It was downright dark outside, what with the snow clouds and all that. David paced around the deck restlessly. It was nearly lunchtime, but he wasn't very hungry. He was too nervous to be hungry, nervous about his sister's health, and about what to say to Vanessa…

He like Vanessa. He really did. A lot. More than any other girl. And he didn't know quite how to tell her.

David laughed at that. He, the loquacious David Seaborne, was at a loss for words? Pitiful!

As he was pacing the deck in the snow, pondering his feelings for Vanessa, a shadow caught his eye. He turned to face it, turned toward the stern of the ship. There was someone standing there, leaning over the rail. David frowned and quietly walked closer to the middle of the ship so that he could get a better look. Finally, he was able to make out the dark figure at the rail. It was Fabrice Rousseau.

David's frown deepened. What was that Frenchman doing leaning over the rail? When he realized (with horror) what was going on, David called out, "Hey! Hey! Rousseau! Stop that!"

Fabrice turned around quickly. There was a clattering sound as metal items fell from his arms. He stood straight and tall, his haughty black eyes defying the young American.

"Put it _all _down, Rousseau," David ordered in what he hoped was a commanding voice. As usual, in a time of crisis, he tried to emulate Englehorn's manly example. "And stay right where you are."

Fabrice kept his eyes on David as he slowly set down what he had been carrying in his arms--cameras, an astrolabe, a telescope, a compass, and various other equipment that would be quite useful in any search for a sea monster.

"Now stay right there," David repeated. He glanced around for any crew members, finally spotting Robbins, the man who generally worked the wireless. "Hey! Robbins! Go get the captain or Darby. Mr. Rousseau here was trying to dump some of our equipment overboard."

(LINE)

"What on earth were you doing?" shouted Eric Englehorn, hands on his hips, eyes as cold as blue ice. "You know the sea! You know how important these things are! We might be lost at sea without these instruments, you fool!" He swore under his breath and clenched his teeth.

Fabrice remained unaffected by his rival's anger. "It's a race, Englehorn. No… I'd say it's a war. And what is that English phrase? 'All's fair in love and war.'"

"Do you have no honor?" Eric snapped.

Fabrice shrugged nonchalantly. "You are only jealous that I was intelligent enough to think of sabotage. I always respected your intelligence captain." He smiled wickedly. "So it surprised me when I had to ask myself why it was so easy for me to pilfer all these things if you are so smart. Is it perhaps because you are so preoccupied by your feelings for your wife that you don't have time to run your own ship?"

There was a moment of cold, hard, violent silence.

Then, Eric punched Fabrice Rousseau right in that aristocratic nose of his. It was quite satisfactory to see the elegant Frenchman stumble awkwardly to the deck, clutching his bleeding nose.

For a while, Fabrice just knelt there on the deck before half the crew and most of the passengers, head bowed, manicured hands covering his nose. He was so vulnerable.

The _Venture_'s captain imagined kicking the Frenchman around a bit, perhaps kicking him overboard… It took every ounce of his self control not to carry out the delightful fancy. Instead, he offered his hand to the man.

Fabrice glared up at him and staggered to his feet without the assistance of the German captain.

"Mr. Galyon, escort this man to one of the cages," Eric ordered coolly. "Make sure that he is secured. And have Hofstetter send him some food and water."

"Yes, sir," said Darby, smiling.

Eric watched his rumpled rival descend into the lower decks, followed closely by Darby. Then he glanced around at the small crowd of crew and passengers that had gathered. "Back to work!" he snapped, and the crewmen scattered.

Jack, Bruce, Ann, and Vanessa just stood there, staring.

Jack cleared his throat and said, "Good work, Captain."

Eric smiled grimly. "Thank-you."

(A/N: Yay! Chapter Seven at last! I'm (hopefully) picking up the pace, and updating at a goodly speed. Don't worry, there will be lots more trouble out of that naughty Frenchman to come! And more romance, of course! And a sea monster in the near future! I'm having lots of fun writing this one. For some reason, Englehorn stories seem to be my groove. I love reading and writing them. Anyways, thanks to all my most excellent reviewers! A note to RebeccaAnn--thanks so much for that tip about the line thing. But for some reason, it won't work! Computers hate me! I'm working on that, though.)


	8. A Doctor and a Discovery

Special thanks to Lady Lithoniel for her helpful and interesting information regarding Newfoundland.

Chapter Eight

The _Venture _dropped anchor off the coast of Newfoundland the day after its captain had the pleasure of busting the nose of Fabrice Rousseau. It was late afternoon, and the sky was dark with blue and gray clouds. There was a heavy, cool breeze coming from the north.

In Clytie's opinion, it was a beautiful day.

"Lower the boat, Schmidt," Eric ordered. His voice rumbled pleasantly in Clytie's ear. She closed her eyes as she leaned her head against his chest. He was carrying her like a baby, with such gentleness and strength that her heart was flip-flopping in her chest.

Schmidt and Robbins began to lower the rowboat.

"Warm, love?" Eric whispered.

"Yes. I'm fine." She smiled up at him. She had insisted on wearing her favorite black dress when they went ashore, and, because of its short sleeves, _he _had insisted that she wear a shawl. So she was bundled up quite nicely in a pretty pink shawl. And there was always the warmth of his lean, strong body next to hers…

"I'm excited about going ashore," chatted Ann cheerfully from where she stood with Jack nearby.

"Newfoundland is a nice place," said Jack. "I came here once a long time ago to research one of my novels."

"_The Trap_," Ann proclaimed. "I remember."

"I read that one, too," said Preston, who was also going ashore.

"Me, too," Jimmy chimed in.

"The weather is lovely," Clytie said, her voice quiet and weak. She was feeling weary again, and her lungs ached.

Eric looked down at her, worry clear in his blue eyes.

"The boat's down, skipper," Robbins called.

Eric tightened his hold on his wife. "Let's go."

(LINE)

Jack felt like writing a play. The inspiration hit when they were stepping onto the dock. Jimmy was tying up the boat, and Preston was helping the captain get Clytie out of the boat while Jack helped Ann. It was the sight of Englehorn carrying his wife that impressed the most upon Jack's imagination. Eric held his head high, arms close around her, cradling his wife to his chest. And Clytie leaned her head against his shoulder, eyes opened slightly, with the shadow of a smile playing on her lips despite her sickness. She was obviously content in the arms of her husband.

It would make a great scene in a play. Now Jack had to come up with a story to go around it…

"Ready, darling?" Ann looped her arm through his, green-blue eyes looking up at him appealingly.

Jack nodded, coming out of his artistic trance. "Yes. Let's go." He and Ann trailed behind the Englehorns, with Jimmy and Preston taking up the rear of the little group.

"I just got a great idea for a play," Jack whispered to his wife as they walked into the little fishing village.

"That's great, Jack!" Ann exclaimed. "What kind of idea?"

"Well, it's not fully developed yet," said Jack. "I just got this inspiration when we were stepping onto the dock and I saw Englehorn carrying Clytie. Something about that just makes me want to write a play where a man carries a woman on a dock." He shrugged, laughing wryly. "I suppose it doesn't sound so impressive."

"That's not true!" Ann protested. "It sounds nice. Romantic." She huddled closer to him against the wind and whispered, "You'll have to carry me like that sometime."

Jack raised one eyebrow. "In a few months time, I won't be able to!"

"Jack!' Ann gave his arm a playful smack.

(LINE)

Eric quickly approached the first person he saw in the bustling little seaside town. "Miss, could you direct me to the nearest doctor?" he asked quickly.

The girl straightened up with a smile. She was of medium height, pale skinned and pretty, with two bright red pigtails. "Sure I can. He's my uncle. Come with me." She started walking, her steps light and bouncy. As she walked, snatches of her musical accent drifted back to those behind her. "Welcome to Richardson Bay, by the way. It's a nice little place. _I _like living here, at least. We're all rather nice, for the most part."

"That's good," Eric muttered in reply, glancing around with his keen blue eyes. Richardson Bay was a pleasant looking little place. Small fishing boats bobbed on the dock, and seagulls called out overhead. None of the buildings seemed to be very large, but they were lined up quite neatly. There was a small number of people in the street, and they all smiled and waved in quite a friendly manner at the newcomers. The captain noticed a fishmonger's shop, a barber shop, and a general store. And there was a tiny, gray library. Clytie would love that…

"Here we are. Dr. Crane's." The red-haired girl stopped walking and put her hands on her hips, smiling proudly. "That's my uncle, you know." Her smile faded. "Is she really sick?" she asked, pointing to Clytie.

Eric nodded. "Yes. Introduce us to your uncle, please."

The redhead quickly opened the door of the little wooden building, that obviously was both home and office to Dr. Crane. She hurried inside, holding the door open for the new arrivals. "Uncle George!" she called. "It's Amanda! You have a patient!"

Eric turned to Jack, Ann, Preston, and Jimmy. "Go find us an inn where we can stay for the night. I have a feeling we might be here for awhile if Clytie is very sick."

"Yes, sir," said Jimmy, the others nodded, and they left the doctor's office to search for an inn.

"May I help you?" asked a pleasant, thickly lilting man's voice.

Eric turned to face the man, Dr. Crane, obviously. "My wife is sick," he said, surprised at the heavy emotion in his own voice.

Crane, a slender, handsome man of middling years, peered closely at Clytie, who smiled weakly at him. "I can see that. Bring her in here." He led Eric and Clytie into a small, clean room and motioned for Eric to lay his wife on the white-sheeted bed.

Eric set her down gently and took her hand in his, sitting in the ladder-back chair beside the bed.

The doctor moved to the other side of the bed. Keeping his cool blue eyes on Clytie, he called to his niece, "Amanda, fetch me my bag."

The redhead hurried to obey.

Crane swiftly held a hand to Clytie's forehead. "She's certainly got a temperature," he remarked. His long, slender fingers moved to feel her throat. "Her throat's not swollen. That's good. What's been going on with you, young lady?"

"Aches, fever, chills, coughing." Clytie frowned. "My chest hurts, and my sides, especially when I cough. And I have no energy at all."

"My cook, Hofstetter has had some medical training, and he says it might be pneumonia," Eric spoke up.

"Hm. Could be." Crane took the bag from Amanda as she entered the room. "Amanda, be a dear and go get me a cool, wet cloth."

Amanda nodded and ran to do so.

"She lives with me," Crane explained, taking a stethoscope and a thermometer out of his bag. "An orphan. And a God-send. She loves helping with the patients."

"She seems to be a nice girl," Clytie said. "And friendly."

"Most of us are like that here," Crane said with a smile. "You came to the right place for help." He glanced at Eric. "I'm going to have to… examine your wife, sir… with your permission."

Eric didn't relish the thought of another man being so close to Clytie or seeing more of her skin than was necessary, but… He realized that this was necessary. "I understand. As long as you're helping her…"

Crane shrugged. "That's what I do." He sat softly on the edge of the bed beside Clytie. "This will be a bit cold, ma'am," he said, holding up the end of the stethoscope.

Clytie nodded quietly.

The doctor gently slid the piece against Clytie's chest, just under the neckline of her dress. She flinched a bit, but quickly relaxed to the coolness of the metal. "Heartbeat sounds just a bit fast. That's not too bad," Crane muttered. He withdrew the stethoscope and took up his thermometer. "Open up for me." He slipped it into Clytie's mouth. "Now close. Keep it under your tongue."

There were a few moments of silence, then Crane said in a low voice, "We'll definitely have to lower that temperature." He then took out his stethoscope again, this time settling the end piece against Clytie's ribs. "Breathe in. Mmmm… Breathe out. All right, roll onto your side for me." He settled the device against her back this time. "Breathe in. Breathe out. All right. You can relax for a bit now."

Clytie sighed as she relaxed into the soft mattress.

"Will she be all right?" Eric asked anxiously.

"I don't think it's pneumonia yet, but her chest is badly congested, and it could get that way quite easily," Crane said, meeting Eric's eyes, blue to blue. He put his instruments back into his bag and snapped it shut.

At that moment, Amanda came back into the room with a cool, wet cloth and a glass of ice water.

"Thank-you so much, Amanda," Crane said, taking the items from her. "You can go now."

The Newfoundland girl crossed her arms and shook her head. "I'm going to stay and help you, Uncle George. There's not much to do at the dock now that the fishing's gone bad."

"Fishing's gone bad?" Clytie asked, sitting up on her elbows. Her green eyes were wide with curiosity.

"Yes. The local fisherman have been having some trouble catching fish lately." Crane frowned. "We thought maybe some sharks were picking them off, or maybe even orca." He shook his head. "But none have been seen." He laid the cool cloth gently against Clytie's forehead. "Some crazy fellow even said he saw some sort of 'sea monster.'"

Eric and Clytie looked at each other.

"Sea monster, Dr. Crane?" Clytie asked, pushing away his hand as he offered her the water.

"Yes. Madness, isn't it?"

Clytie took the glass and sipped down a bit of water, then handed it back to the doctor and laid back down, worn out from sitting up. She looked meaningfully at her husband.

Eric cleared his throat. "Actually, Dr. Crane, it might not be all that mad, after all."

Crane tilted his head to the side, studying the ship's captain carefully. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"My wife is a marine biologist," Eric explained. "And right now…" He hesitated, not sure how to explain things to this kind doctor. He finally decided to take a direct approach. "My wife, my crew, myself, and some of our friends are on a mission to find and observe a very large sea creature that has been spotted numerous times in the north Atlantic."

Crane and his niece exchanged glances.

Then Amanda said, "That is absolutely smashing!"

Crane blinked silently for a few moments, then broke into a charming crooked grin. "Well, then. I'd best get this young lady well so she can chase that sea monster."

(LINE)

Fabrice Rousseau sat pouting in a dirty wooden cage that had obviously been set up for some horrid, low-born creature. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in the rickety rocking chair that was set inside the cage. Slowly, steadily, annoyingly, he was becoming scandalously bored. And angry. Angry at that shark, Englehorn…

There was a sudden thud of boots on the stairs. Someone was coming down into the hold.

It was Bruce Baxter, that American actor. Fabrice smiled. A malleable man, easily flattered, he had noticed. Perhaps he could get the man to run some errands for him…

"Baxter!"

The actor spun around, obviously startled.

"Baxter, come here. I want to talk to you." Fabrice motioned for the actor to come closer.

Bruce hesitated for a moment, then turned away without saying a word, rummaging through some crates.

"Baxter! I wanted to ask you about some of your movies!" Fabrice called.

Bruce continued his search, completely ignoring the Frenchman in the cage. Finally, he found whatever it was he had been searching for, and pounded back up the steps.

Fabrice let out a French curse and jumped to his feet, stomping at the deck. Even the actor wouldn't listen to him! Everyone had probably been warned not to speak to the French captain…

Fabrice blew out a heavy breath and plopped back into the chair. He would have to think of something to do, some mischief to work against Englehorn and his crew, before he went crazy…

(LINE)

"So have you lived here all your life?" Preston winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. _Just shut up, Preston…_

"Yes. All my life." Amanda smiled at him. Her eyes were blue, like her uncle's, sky blue. "I love this town." Then she frowned. "I hope the fish come back. Without them…" She shrugged, looking suddenly worried.

Preston gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Miss Crane. We'll find a way to keep Leviathan from eating all of your fish."

Dr. Crane chose that moment to walk into his living room.

Preston, Jack, Ann, and Jimmy stood quickly.

"How is Clytie?" Ann asked.

"She'll be fine," Crane said. He looked incredibly relieved.

There was a collective sigh of relief.

"The captain said to tell you all to go back to the inn. He's staying with Clytie tonight," the doctor explained. "I've recommended that Clytie stay ashore for two days at least."

Preston glanced quickly at the doctor's red-haired niece. Two days… You could get to know someone in two days…

(LINE)

"We're so close, Eric," Clytie said. Her voice was hoarse and her throat sore from the treatments that Crane had administered, but her lungs felt much better now.

"Yes, we are close, love." Eric still sat in the chair beside her bed, holding her hand, rubbing his thumb over her fingers.

Clytie closed her eyes and took a deep, comfortable breath. _Thanks, God. And bless Dr. Crane for his help… _"I just hate that I have to stay in bed so long."

Eric chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that gave Clytie pleasant chills. "It's only a day, Clytie."

"But that's so long." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "I hate to keep you from your ship for so long."

"Hush." He gave her hand a squeeze and stood, bending over her. "Do I have to keep proving myself to you?" He asked, settling beside her on the bed and lowering his face close to hers.

Clytie smiled at him and whispered huskily, "Yes."

"All right then, woman." The captain kissed her passionately on the lips, his arms wrapping around her and lifting her from the mattress.

Clytie somehow found enough strength to link her hands behind his neck and kiss him back.

After the kiss was over, Eric held her tightly to him, running his fingers through her long, golden hair. "Does that prove it to you, _liebchen_?" he whispered.

She kissed him lightly on the ear. "Yes."


	9. Dragons and French

A word of thanks to Celestra: The chess idea was too much to resist…

Chapter Nine

"These pancakes are delicious, Mrs. Evans!" Jimmy told the proprietress of the Bay Inn at breakfast.

"Thank-you, Jimmy," she replied, smiling at him. She was a plump middle-aged woman who ran her inn with efficiency and a comforting feminine touch. "Would you like some more?" she asked, eyeing his swiftly dwindling stack.

Jimmy nodded, unable to speak through the wads of pancake in his mouth.

Across the table from his friend, Preston smiled. "We should kick Hofstetter off the boat and hire Mrs. Evans instead," he joked.

Jimmy laughed and was barely able to keep the pancake in his mouth.

"Good morning!" came a cheery feminine voice from the door.

Preston and Jimmy both jumped to their feet as Amanda Crane sauntered into the dining room of the inn. She plopped down beside Preston, motioning for both young men to sit. "So? Are you going to tell me about some of your adventures like you promised?" she asked Preston, twirling a strand of ruby red hair around her finger.

Preston nodded quickly.

Jimmy kicked his friend under the table, grinning.

Preston kicked him back. "Certainly."

"And after that, are you going to teach me how to play chess?"

"Of course."

Mrs. Evans plopped another stack of pancakes onto Jimmy's plate, keeping her eyes on Preston and Amanda. "You young folks eat up," she said. She met Jimmy's eye and winked.

(LINE)

Clytie took a wobbling step, gripping her husband's strong arm. "I think I'll be well enough to chase our Leviathan pretty soon, won't I?" she commented. She held her tongue between her lips, concentrating on each step, trying not to sway and give away her dizziness.

Eric smiled down at her. "You'll be well soon enough. Dr. Crane just wants to keep you here a little longer for--"

"Eric, you know I'm not going to stay in bed for another day!" Clytie exclaimed.

The ship's captain raised an eyebrow. "I know," he said dryly. "Seaborne stubborn streak and all that." He caught her as she sagged tiredly against him.

"Don't tell me that the Englehorns don't have a stubborn streak, too," she replied with a feigned air of loftiness.

Eric swept her up into his arms with a grin, then crossed the room to deposit her on the bed. "Alack the day we have children, then," he remarked, crossing his arms.

Clytie blushed lightly. "So you're still serious about having children, are you?"

"Yes. I am," her husband said soberly. He sat beside her on the bed and took her hand, kissing it lightly.

The strength in his fingers and his lips seemed to flood into Clytie's veins. She sat up on her elbows, smiling at him. "It says in the Bible that 'children are a heritage from the Lord'," she said quietly.

Eric nodded. "I would agree with that." He kissed her palm. "It also says in the Bible to delight in your wife, does it not?"

Clytie's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You snuck a peek at my Bible, did you?"

"It happened to be lying opened to that page." The kisses moved to her wrist.

A mischievous thought flashed through Clytie's mind. "It says 'rejoice in the wife of your youth.'"

"And then something about breasts, I think," said Eric casually.

"Eric! I'm trying to make a point!" She smacked him playfully.

"So am I," he replied with a crooked smile. "But do go on."

"The wife of your _youth_, Eric. I wouldn't say that you're a youth. Not like me." She grinned slyly.

"That was cruel, _liebchen_," the ship's captain said with mock hurt.

"You know I'm just playing." Feeling her strength returning quite steadily, Clytie sat up and threw her arms around her husband. "I'm glad that you're a man and not a boy."

"I'm glad that you're glad." Eric kissed that curve of soft, pale skin right between neck and shoulder.

Clytie felt a pleasant shiver rush up her spine. "Yes, the Bible does say to delight in your wife."

"Shall we have some delight?" her husband asked in a low voice, his strong, callused hands running up and down her back and tangling in her long, golden hair.

"Yes," said Clytie quietly.

(LINE)

"You seem to be quite healthy, Mrs. Driscoll," said Dr. Crane, lowering his stethoscope. "And the baby, as well. He--or she--will be coming along in… five months or so."

Ann smiled a bit shyly and rubbed the already visible swelling of her stomach. "I'm glad to hear that," she said quietly.

Jack was beaming ear to ear. "Do you think it's going to be a boy or a girl, doctor?" he asked.

"I can't say," said Crane, packing away his instruments of examination. "According to popular belief--which is not backed up by science nor disproved by it--the way Ann is carrying, the baby will be a--"

"Uncle George! Uncle George!" Amanda Crane burst into the doctor's cottage, red hair streaming behind her.

"Amanda, I'm busy with--" Crane started, frowning at his niece.

"It's the sea monster, Uncle George!" cried Amanda.

(LINE)

Clytie, who had been dozing beside her husband, immediately awoke at the words "sea monster." "Eric!" She gently shook his arm. "Eric! Wake up! I think someone's seen our sea monster!"

In a few minutes, the Englehorns joined Dr. Crane and the Driscolls on the steps of the doctor's house. "Amanda is already at the wharf with your two young friends," Crane said. "Some fishermen spotted a huge creature out in the ocean. We think it may be your sea monster."

"Let's go!" said Clytie, taking a step forward.

"Wait a minute." Her husband grabbed her arm. "You are in no shape to walk all the way to the dock, my love."

Clytie chewed on her lower lip, tapping her fingertips together. "Oh. That's true."

"So I'll carry you," Eric said. "Come on." He lifted his wife into his arms and started for the dock, motioning for Jack and Ann to follow.

The little group quickly made its way to the wharf, where a large crowd had gathered. Clytie immediately spotted Amanda's red hair, and next to her stood Preston and Jimmy. "Over there!" she said, pointing.

They made their way through the crowd to the very edge of the dock, where Amanda, Jimmy, and Preston were staring out over the water.

Eric gently set Clytie down on her feet. "What's going on?" he asked.

"We saw it, captain. Out there," said Jimmy, pointing.

"I think it's genuine," Preston added. "It certainly looked real to me."

"Stupid monster's been eating our fish," muttered a older man from behind the _Venture _group.

"Maybe we can lure it further out to sea," Clytie said quietly. She took one step forward, her toes dangling over the edge of the dock. She narrowed her green eyes on the ocean. _Cone on, Leviathan. Show us what you are…_

For a moment, there was silence, interrupted only by the sloshing of water against the dock and the occasional cough or sneeze from the crowd.

Then, there was a loud splashing noise. At first, Clytie thought that someone had fallen in the water.

"Look! Out there!" cried Amanda. She pointed northwards.

The water was churning and bubbling. Something very large was moving just under the surface.

Clytie held her breath as the tip of a rather huge tail splashed out of the water, then a long, scaly back. The creature's tail and back were visible only for a moment, then they were gone. It was just a glimpse, but it was enough for Clytie to know what she was looking at. "Sweet Nellie… It's a dragon."

(LINE)

There was a knock at Darby's door. "Mr. Galyon, we've received a very odd transmission."

"Who is it for, Robbins?" Darby asked, quickly pulling on a shirt and fumbling with the buttons.

"That's the strange part, sir."

Darby opened the door, smoothing down his rumpled black hair. He knew that he probably looked terrible and un-captain-like, as he always did when he woke up from a nap. "Who is it for?" he asked again.

Robbins' eyes were round. "It's for that Frenchman in the hold, sir. Mr. Rousseau."

Darby narrowed his green eyes. "What?"

"That's what I said, sir." Robbins shook his head. "You'll just have to come and see." He led the first mate back up to the bridge and the wireless. "I hope you can read French, sir, 'cause I sure can't."

Darby raised his eyebrows as he looked at the words Robbins had scribbled down. "I don't understand a word of French," he said. "And I can't think of anyone on this ship who does."

"Saving Mr. Rousseau," said Robbins gloomily.

Darby tapped his lower lip thoughtfully. "Do you think perhaps David Seaborne or Miss Madison might know French? They're both well-educated."

Robbins smiled. "Good idea, Mr. Galyon!"

(LINE)

"What did you say, Clytie?" Eric asked his wife, keeping his eyes on the sea where that creature had disappeared.

"I said, 'Sweet Nellie. It's a dragon,'" said Clytie, also keeping watch on the still bubbling water.

"A dragon?"

"A dragon."

Eric put his hands on his hips and narrowed his bright blue eyes. _A dragon… _Could there be such things in the world? He shook his head. Of course there could. If there was something like Kong, then there could be something like… Leviathan.

"Eric, we need to get back to our ship and go after it," Clytie whispered.

He nodded absently, still pondering the existence of _dragons _in the world.

"Captain, what do we do?" Jimmy asked.

"Get our things and get in the rowboat," Eric said, snapping out of his trance at the word "captain." "We're going back to the _Venture_."

Jimmy nodded and ran to do his captain's bidding.

Jack turned to the captain, his brown eyes huge. "Wow! Have you ever seen anything like that?"

"Only once," Eric said quietly, thinking of Skull Island and all its creatures.

"Oh. Yes. Of course." Jack sobered, understanding immediately what the other man meant.

Ann took Clytie's hand. "I guess the adventure _really _begins now," she said.

Clytie nodded, tearing her eyes from the ocean. "Yes." She glanced once more at the disturbed waters. "If only we could have gotten a glimpse at its head… I wonder if it looks like a classic dragon or like one of the dinosaurs from Skull Island…"

Ann shuddered. "It's probably very dangerous."

"Yes." Clytie smiled at her friend, squeezing the pregnant woman's hand. "But we've got our brave husband to take care of us."

Ann grinned.

"Come on, Clytie." Eric chose that moment to take her up into his arms. "Let's get in the boat."

"You, too, Ann," said Jack, grinning and sweeping her off her feet.

"Like you were so quick to mention, you won't be able to pick me up for much longer," Ann said, giggling and patting her rounded stomach.

(LINE)

Preston glanced at Amanda. What would she do if he picked her up and put _her _in the boat? He shook his head. Not that he didn't _want _to do that…

"Be careful," the redhead said, taking his hand.

"I will," he replied nonchalantly, hoping that he looked brave.

"You have to come back and let me beat you at chess again, once your mission is through," Amanda said, smiling up at him.

Preston was tempted, oh so very tempted, to kiss her just then, but… That would be too forward, he was sure. So he simply squeezed her hand and said, "I will. I promise." Then, feeling that those words were not enough, he said, "I'll miss you."

"Oh, I'll miss you, too!" Amanda suddenly threw her arms around him. "Come back in one piece for me, Preston!"

(LINE)

"This is very bad," said Vanessa Madison, looking up from the paper Robbins had given her. "We're all in danger."

"What do you mean?" Darby asked nervously.

"This is from the _Delphine_," Vanessa explained. _Rousseau's ship… _"They're still out there. And they know that their captain is on this ship. They're telling him in this message that he received a telegram from Berlin."

Listening to Vanessa's words, David Seaborne felt a sick sensation in his stomach. Berlin…

"The telegram told him that being on the _Venture _is an opportunity to complete his mission. The last words are 'You know what to do.'" Vanessa let the paper drop to the wireless desk. "This could be very bad."

"Not unless Rousseau finds out about it," David spoke up.

"But now whoever that little rat is working for knows just where the lad is--and where we are," said Darby darkly.

There was silence.

"We have to tell the captain," David said.

"But he's on shore!" Vanessa exclaimed.

"Hopefully not for long…" said Darby.


	10. Man Talk and Woman Talk

Sorry this chapter is so short. It's just that I'm going deep sea fishing this weekend (woohoo!), and I probably won't get this finished unless I do it NOW! Anyways, hope you like it! I'm having such fun with this! Hopefully, as soon as I get back on Saturday, I will come home to a bunch of reviews, and I'll get hugely inspired to quickly write another chapter! Yay!

Chapter Ten

"Captain! Captain!"

Eric looked up as he climbed back onto his ship. Vanessa Madison ran toward him, dark hair streaming behind her. "What is it, Miss Madison?" he asked, gently setting Clytie on her feet.

"A message for Mr. Rousseau just came through," the girl gushed.

David came up behind her. "His men know where he is--and maybe even where we are. And we could be in danger."

"Let me see the message," said Eric. He turned to Jack and Ann, who were climbing out of the rowboat. "Take Clytie with you. I'm going to the bridge."

For once, Clytie didn't quite have the strength to follow him. She smiled sleepily at her husband. "Thanks, love," she whispered, grateful that he had noticed her exhaustion.

He bent to kiss her forehead. "Go with the Driscolls. They'll take good care of you." Then he turned and followed Madison and David to the bridge.

"Come on, Clytie." Ann looped her arm through Clytie's. "I've got a gramophone in my cabin. Let's listen to some music." She glanced at Jack. "Are you coming, Jack, darling?" she asked.

"Actually, I'm going to play chess with Preston," Jack said with a grin. "He needs some practice so he can beat Amanda next time he sees her."

(LINE)

"It's a dragon, Mr. Galyon," Eric told his first mate as they met on the bridge. "At least, that's what Clytie calls it."

Darby's black eyebrows shot up. "A dragon, captain?"

"Yes. We're going to follow it. Take us a bit to the north." The captain reached past Darby and tapped a spot on the map. "About right there."

"All right." Darby went to the wheel, then glanced back at his captain. "Sir, you really need to see that message."

"Is it that bad?" Eric asked, frowning and reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes.

"Look." David handed him Vanessa's English version of the message for Fabrice Rousseau.

Eric's blue eyes quickly scanned over the paper. When he had finished reading it, he set down the paper with a heavy sigh and proceeded to light his cigarette.

David and Vanessa watched him carefully.

Finally, David cleared his throat and asked, "Well?"

"I think I'm going to have a little chat with Fabrice Rousseau," Eric said dryly. He took a long draw on his cigarette, then turned to Darby. "Mr. Galyon, give me the wheel. I want you to take Robbins and go get me our esteemed French guest."

(LINE)

Fabrice Rousseau sat up quickly, wiping the matter from his eyes, when he heard footsteps descending into the hold. He went to the door of the cage, clinging to the bars with his manicured hands. He smiled sardonically when he saw Darby Galyon and that Robbins fellow enter the hold. "_Bonjour, monsieur's_," he called out in mock cheer. "Welcome to my most humble abode!"

The Irishman frowned and proceeded to unlock the padlock on the cage door. "Come with us, Mr. Rousseau," he said, frowning. "The captain wants to have a talk with you."

Fabrice gently touched his sore nose, frowning. That soreness was the result of his last conversation with the captain… "And what if I refuse to come out?" he suggested airily, waving the first mate away with his hand.

Darby sighed. "You're coming out anyway," he said flatly.

The Frenchman sniffed haughtily. Even _he _knew when to admit defeat. The only way to resist going with the two crewmen would be to take them on in a fight and… He eyed the tall Irishman critically. Darby alone was more than a match for Fabrice, not to mention stocky, steely-eyed Robbins. "All right. I'm coming." And besides… Going to the bridge would present some definite possibilities…

(LINE)

Clytie felt very relaxed. Ann's music was quite beautiful, soothing and a bit haunting.

The two young women sat in Jack and Ann's cabin, enjoying a rest after their busy day.

"I'm really excited about seeing our sea monster," Clytie said, smiling at her friend. "I can hardly wait to get a better look!"

"Oh, I know!" Ann exclaimed. "That was so amazing! It's not everyday you get to see something like that!" She sobered quite suddenly, and Clytie knew that she was thinking about Kong.

"And I'm sure you're even more excited about the baby," Clytie said quickly.

Ann smiled again. "Yes. I am." She looked absolutely beautiful with that soft, proud glow in her cheeks. "What about you and the captain, Clytie? Are you planning on children?"

Clytie blushed lightly. "Yes." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"That's nice," said Ann, grinning. "Your kids will be so cute. I'm sure there will be lots of them, and all of them will have blonde hair and be oceanographers or something."

"I agree!" Clytie said with a laugh. "And who knows what you and Jack's child will look like!"

Ann giggled. "Gosh, I've never thought of that! Jack and I don't look a bit alike!"

"Don't worry. They'll be beautiful, I'm sure." Clytie stood and walked to the gramophone. "Let's hear that song again. I really like it."

(A/N: I know, I know--it's really short! But if I don't get something posted now, there won't be another chapter until I come back from the beach! Which won't be until Saturday evening, and I really doubt that I could just whip up 2,000 words in one day. I've done it before, but… I think posting this little chapter will work out better. Anyways, I already kinda have an idea of what's going to be done in the next chapter. Good ol' Rousseau, of course, is going to cause some major trouble. The sea monster is going to make another appearance. And everyone's favorite couples are going to do some more flirting (naturally). So, send me a review, and I'll send you a story!)


	11. Lovers and Enemies

Chapter Eleven

Jack knocked softly on the door to his cabin. The only reply was the sound of soft band music. No voices answered.

"Ann? Clytie?" he called.

Again, there was no answer.

Perplexed, he opened the door and walked inside. A slow smile spread across his lips at the sight he beheld.

Ann was lying elegantly on the bed, eyes closed, mouth opened, one arm tossed over her head. She was asleep, as was Clytie, who was curled up like a child in the chair, one fist balled up against her mouth.

Jack quietly backed out of the room. He surely wasn't going to wake a recovering invalid and a pregnant woman.

(LINE)

When Fabrice stepped onto the bridge, he gave the captain a sneer.

Eric restrained himself from punching the Frenchman again. "So, Mr. Rousseau, how do you explain this?" He held out the other man's message, keeping it just out of his reach.

Fabrice narrowed his eyes on the paper. Then he shot an angry glance at the captain. "What right do you have to read my personal messages?"

"My right as captain of this vessel--and as your official captor."

"Official captor?" Fabrice huffed.

"Official as of today." Eric put his hands on his hips, blue eyes cold. "I reported you as a spy to the governor of New York. He told me that the US president will be most interested in meeting you. I am to bring you in as soon as our expedition is finished." He shifted his weight, crossing his lean, strong arms. "I have half a mind to turn around and take you back now. You have been nothing but trouble for me."

"I hope I can be more in the future," Fabrice said dryly.

"Cause more trouble, and you'll wish you hadn't said that," Eric replied.

"So… Tell me again--_Why_ did you want to see me?"

"I wanted to warn you," the captain said, turning from the Frenchman and focusing his attention on the map on his desk. "I should think my intentions were clear." He faced Fabrice again, jaw clenched. For a moment, he thought to say more to the man, but he just shook his head. "Galyon, take the rat back into the hold where he belongs."

"Yes, sir. Be happy to oblige." Darby turned toward the steps, dragging Fabrice along with him. The Frenchman stumbled, nearly knocking himself and the first mate over the railing.

"Watch what you're doing!" Darby snapped.

For once, Fabrice didn't say anything back.

That bothered Eric. As he watched Darby march Fabrice toward the hold, he wondered what his rival had up his sleeve…

(LINE)

Clytie woke up slowly, not really wanting to leave her dream, in which she was riding on the back of the sea dragon. She stretched slowly, relishing in the feeling of health that was returning to her. Dr. Crane's treatments had worked wonders.

Suddenly, her hand brushed across something on her pillow. Yawning, she sat up and turned around. There was a small piece of folded paper sitting on her pillow, right beside the indent her head had left. And she was in her cabin.

"How did I get here?" she whispered groggily to herself. Her most recent memory was of laughing with Ann about something, then feeling very, very sleepy…

She smiled. Eric must have found her asleep in Jack and Ann's cabin and brought her back to their own.

Curious, she picked up the paper on her pillow and unfolded it. She smiled as she read: "Proverbs 31:10--'Who can find a virtuous wife? For her worth is far above rubies.' You are my ruby, _liebchen._"

Clytie laid back on the bed, sighing contentedly and clasping the note to her breast.

(LINE)

Ann blinked, feeling a bit dazed. She ran a hand through her tangled blonde curls and sat up.

"You can sleep some more if you want," said a low, gentle voice.

She smiled. Jack. "No, it's all right. I'm not tired anymore." She looked around the cabin. "Where's Clytie?"

"The captain came and got her. She was asleep, too," Jack explained.

Ann smiled. "We both fell asleep?"

Jack nodded. "And I wouldn't dare wake you up."

"Good choice," Ann said with a grin.

Jack stood up from the chair and crossed the cabin to the gramophone.

"What are you doing?" Ann asked, swinging her legs to the side of the bunk. Gosh, pregnancy made one tired!

"Playing music."

A sweet tune filled the cabin.

Ann closed her eyes. "Ah. That's classic."

Jack turned to her and held out a long, slender hand. "Dance with me?"

Ann opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "Of course, my love." Then she took his hand.

(LINE)

Vanessa felt a little shy as she stood in front of the captain. For some reason, she always felt shy around him. Maybe it was that piercing blue stare, that look he gave everyone that seemed to say "I know more about you than even you know." But she swallowed down her shyness and held out the little piece of paper. "Here you are, captain. Your wife asked me to give this to you and to wait for a reply."

Eric took the note and read it. To Vanessa's amazement, the man actually smiled. The smile spread slowly, and a bit crookedly, but it was there.

_He must love her. He must really love her, _Vanessa thought. Then she thought of David…

"Miss Madison, tell her I said yes," the captain said suddenly, interrupting the girl's thoughts.

Vanessa nodded. "Okay. I will."

"Thank-you, Miss Madison."

"You're welcome." She turned and walked down from the bridge. She hurried back to the captain's cabin where Clytie awaited her husband's reply.

Clytie looked up from her T.S Eliot book as the other girl entered. "What did he say?"

"He said yes." Vanessa was eaten up with curiosity. "What was in that note, Clytie?"

Clytie smiled. "A Bible verse. And a question."

The younger girl sat down beside her friend on the bed. "What Bible verse was it? You should have seen the smile on his face! I'd like to send a note like that to David!"

"Here." Clytie reached for the Bible on the end table. She set down her other book and began flipping through the Scriptures. "This is it." She turned the opened book to face Vanessa, pointing to a verse.

Vanessa bent forward to read it. She smiled slowly. "Yes. I can see why he smiled now."

(LINE)

"His mouth is most sweet; yes, he is altogether lovely…"

Eric smiled as he again read Clytie's note, which consisted of Song of Solomon 5:16 and a question: "Are we going after the sea monster today?"

"Yes, Clytie. We are." Eric looked out over the horizon. It was out there somewhere, that dragon…

"There aren't any dolphins around here, are there, captain?"

Eric turned to see Jimmy standing in the doorway to the bridge. "No. I haven't seen any. I think that means that sea dragon is eating all the fish."

"Did we--did we really see a dragon, sir?"

"Yes, Jimmy. We saw a dragon."

(LINE)

Preston looked altogether too depressed.

David Seaborne decided to do something about it. He crossed the galley and sat down in front of the other young man, smiling brightly. "Chess game, Preston?"

Preston shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" David asked.

Preston shrugged. "I just don't feel like it."

David sighed and leaned forward on his elbows. He wasn't really sure what to say to his friend to cheer him up.

Preston stood. "I think I'll go take a walk on the deck."

"And stare toward Newfoundland?" David asked.

Preston glanced sharply at him. "What do you know about that?"

"Jimmy said you went bride-searching there." David stood and crossed his arms, hazel eyes twinkling. "And that you might have been successful."

Preston suddenly broke into a smile. "I guess you could say that. I hope so…" He sighed. "I met this girl. Her name is Amanda. She really likes playing chess. Actually, she's pretty good at it." He blushed and scratched the back of his head.

David patted his friend's back. "Good work, Preston!"

"I miss her," Preston said simply.

David nodded. "I know."

(LINE)

Fabrice Rousseau slipped quietly back into his cage, locking the door behind him. He chuckled to himself as he slid the key from his sleeve and tossed it across the hold. It had been so simple to snatch it from that Irish sailor! Pretending to stumble into him was a classic!

The French captain lowered himself into the single chair and leaned back, smiling. He had managed to find some equipment that worked just fine for sending messages. Now, the crew of his ship and a friend of his from Berlin knew exactly where the _Venture _was and where it was going.

"Help is on the way, Fabrice," he said smugly. "Help is on the way."

(LINE)

Darby frowned as he rummaged through his pockets. "I know I had that key," he muttered to Jimmy. "Now where did I put it?"

Jimmy shrugged. "It won't be so bad if you've lost it. That just means Rousseau's stuck in that cage forever."

"Until he figures out how to pick the lock, which wouldn't surprise me," Darby replied, turning the pockets of his jacket inside-out. "Well, it's not on me. I guess I dropped it somewhere. Jimmy, do you mind looking for it? I need to help the captain on the bridge."

"I don't mind, Mr. Galyon."

"Thanks, buddy." Darby patted the younger man's shoulder and set off for the bridge.

(LINE)

Armin Varner was concentrating quite deeply on his orders from Berlin when he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Herr Varner."

The tall, strong man turned around. "Yes, Wilhelm?"

"You have a message, sir. It's from the captain of the _Delphine._"

Armin took the message from the young officer. "Thank-you. You may go." As soon as Wilhelm had left the spacious quarters, Armin unfolded the paper and read. To his disgust, it was written entirely in French. Why didn't Wilhelm have the decency to rewrite it in German? Shaking his head, he continued to read. The message was partially a plea for help. That French expatriate, Fabrice Rousseau, was stranded on a tramp steamer. This particular piece of information did not interest Armin that much. Rousseau was always getting into scrapes. If he wasn't such a willing traitor, he would be of little use. What interested Armin was the identity of the tramp steamer's captain.

Eric Englehorn.

Armin frowned and looked up from the message. Englehorn… The man who had first been offered the position Armin himself now held. The man who had bested Armin once before in a game of intrigue and treachery…

"Wilhelm!" Armin called.

"Yes, sir?" The little soldier burst back into the room, eager to serve his superior.

"Set a course for Newfoundland."

"Newfoundland, sir?"

"I'm sure Berlin will approve of this course of action," Armin said needlessly. His men should know by now that Armin was high up enough in Germany's chain of command to make his own decisions.

As Wilhelm jogged out of the room, Armin thought with a smile of how much respect he would earn by bringing in the traitor Englehorn…

A few hours away from the Nazi commander's vessel, a sleekly scaled creature frolicked beneath the waves, leaving the surface of the water silver and shiny. And not far behind that bubbling wake sailed an old tramp steamer…


	12. Enemy One and Enemy Two

Chapter Twelve

"Preston, are you getting this?" Clytie called over her shoulder, hoping that her voice carried over the howling wind.

"Yes!" he yelled back, continuing to crank the camera.

Clytie turned back to the bow of the ship, holding her hat tight to her head. She couldn't help but grin. Watching the sea dragon at play was a thrilling thing.

Eric came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulders. "It's an amazing creature," he said quietly. "And we finally found it."

Clytie nodded, her smile still wide. "I'm so excited! This is the kind of thing every marine biologist dreams of--discovering a new ocean creature! And I'm sure no one has ever discovered anything like this in the ocean before!"

Eric grunted. He certainly couldn't disagree with that.

"So, what are you going to call it?" asked Jack, walking to the bow of the ship, his eyes trained on the huge, frolicking sea creature.

"I'll have to think about that one," Clytie replied.

Eric could tell by the look on her face that she was indeed doing that now. He smiled slightly, then gave her shoulder a pat. "I'm going back to the bridge, darling. Keep an eye on Leviathan for me."

On the bridge, Darby greeted him with a look of awe. "It's amazing, captain. That creature." His green Irish eyes were wide.

"Yes. It is, isn't it?" For a moment, Eric wondered what it would be like to do battle with the dragon, to fight it, to defeat it, and either to kill it or capture it. The Norse blood in his veins pounded at the thought of such an adventure… He shook his head. This was a scientific mission. It was no mythic battle between Viking and dragon. "Keep it steady, Mr. Galyon. We don't want to run the thing down."

"Aye, sir." Darby nodded.

Suddenly, Jimmy ran onto the bridge. "Look what I found!" He held something small and gold-toned in his hand.

"Why, that's the key to Rousseau's cage down in the hold." Darby took the key from Jimmy. "Where did you find this?"

"In the hold. It was up under one of the water barrels."

Eric looked up, his eyes meeting Darby's. "Jimmy, the barrels right across from Rousseau's cage?"

"Yes. Those. Why?"

"When did you first notice the key was missing, Mr. Galyon?" Eric asked, his eyes narrowed.

"It was…" Darby swallowed. "Right after we locked up Rousseau."

"Mr. Galyon, have you noticed anything missing or out of place?"

"N-no…"

"Jimmy, how about you?"

"No, sir."

Eric hooked his thumbs on his belt and rocked back on his heels. "I was worried that maybe--"

"Well, actually, sir, there was some old equipment that looked like it had been moved," Jimmy spoke up.

"What equipment was it exactly?" the captain asked.

"Some old wireless equipment, that prototype stuff we bought that one time," Jimmy replied. "It didn't work all that well, remember? You had to crank it up to get it to work."

Eric clenched his teeth.

"You don't think… Rousseau…" Darby said quietly, his eyes wide with horror.

Eric gave his first mate a steady look. "Keep us going as we are, Mr. Galyon. Make sure that sea dragon is in sight at all times. Let me know if there is any change in our status." He turned to leave the bridge.

"Where are you going, captain?" Jimmy asked.

"To interrogate our prisoner of war," was the captain's answer.

(LINE)

"How does this look?" Jack reached over his shoulder to hand a typed up paper to Ann.

Ann took it and began pacing around the cabin, reading and munching on a golden apple.

"Well?" Jack turned in his chair to watch her.

"Hold on, darling, I'm not finished yet." She gave him a coy smile.

Jack returned the smile with a lopsided grin.

"Hmm. Interesting," Ann muttered, perusing Jack's work. Finally, she handed it back to him with a bright smile. "There you go. It was very good."

"Very good?" Jack shrugged. "I'll take that."

"Your description of the dragon was very good." Ann snatched the paper back and read in a dramatic voice, "… a creature of slippery scales and powerful energy, with rows of razor teeth and dark eyes that make one believe in legends of old…" She grinned. "It's very good, Jack."

Jack took the paper from her. "Thank-you, Ann."

She leaned to kiss his cheek. "The words are only as good as the writer who's writing them," she whispered.

Jack turned his head to kiss her lips.

BANG!

The Driscolls both jumped, startled by the pounding on their door.

"Who is it?" Jack called, standing.

"It's Preston."

"Come in, Preston," said Ann, relieved. For a moment, she had experienced an unreasonable feeling of dread, as if something terrible was about to happen. She had felt that way a few times before on this ship, and the feeling was usually right.

Preston entered the cabin. And from the look on his face, Ann knew that her feeling was right once again.

"What is it?" Jack asked slowly, his dark eyes worried.

"There's a really bad situation going on, and I have a feeling that we're going to get inextricably caught up in it," Preston announced.

Jack and Ann blinked.

"That was really good, Preston," said Jack, smiling wryly. "Maybe I should write that down."

"I'm serious." Preston's green eyes were round. "It's Rousseau--again."

Ann sighed. "What has he done now?"

"Nothing much. Only alerted a top German officer of our position."

"So?"

"So Englehorn may be in some big trouble!" Preston explained.

"Oh," said Jack solemnly.

"What kind of trouble?" Ann asked, confused. It seemed as if Preston and Jack understood something perfectly, something she didn't.

"Big trouble, for one thing," said Preston.

"As in trouble with his government," Jack explained. "From what I've observed, and from what I know of our captain, I don't think he agrees with some of the things that they're doing. Rousseau hinted to me once that he may have been involved in some sort of espionage, so obviously, he knows some important things about the German government. And he's not working for them anymore. So…"

Ann's mouth formed an unspoken "oh."

"And now that idiot French guy just let some German officer know exactly where Englehorn is," Preston finished.

Ann's eyebrows raised. "How did he do that?"

"He managed to filch his cell key from Darby and let himself out," Preston said. "I think he found some old communication equipment that wasn't being used anymore and fired it back up. Then, apparently, he got back in his cage and chucked the key across the hold, where Jimmy found it."

Jack patted Preston's arm. "We're glad you're so well informed."

"I heard it from David," Preston replied. "He's up on the bridge now, with Darby."

"Where's the captain?" Ann asked.

"Last time I heard, he was on the deck with Rousseau." Preston took off his glasses and began cleaning them on his vest.

"And how exactly did he get this information from the French guy?" Jack asked.

"How else do you think? He threatened to shoot him."

(LINE)

Vanessa sat in the galley, sipping a glass of soda. All that shouting and violence up on the deck had shaken up her nerves. For the first time, she felt that she did not belong on this voyage, that she should have stayed at home in New York City. The presence of the arrogant actor Bruce Baxter wasn't helping anything.

"And then she said, 'You're so handsome, Bruce. I don't know how you stand it.' And I said, 'It's tough, little lady. Beauty is a curse, you know.' And then…"

On and on and on. Vanessa sighed and closed her eyes. Did the man never tire of telling stories about his fans admiring him and women doting on him?

"Are you feeling all right, Miss Madison?" the actor asked suddenly.

Vanessa opened her eyes and stared at him, smiling incredulously. Had the man actually stopped thinking about himself and asked her a question?

"What?" He frowned, obviously confused by her smile.

"Bruce, maybe you need to go on more dangerous voyages," Vanessa said sweetly. "Maybe they'll make a compassionate human being out of you after all."

He blinked his brown eyes, obviously still confused.

Vanessa held back the laughter that was bubbling at the back of her throat. She stood and walked over to Hofstetter, who was whipping up something that looked entirely unappetizing. She handed him her empty soda glass and left the galley, still trying not to laugh at the clueless actor. Immediately, she crashed into the rather muscular chest of David Seaborne.

"David!" Vanessa exclaimed, startled. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying any attention."

"It's okay." David just stood there, hands in his pockets, looking over her head.

Vanessa cocked her head to one side, not sure what he was up to. "Do you… need something, David?"

"Well, actually, it's more like something I want." He finally met her eyes.

"And… what is it?"

"Just something I want to do."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Something…"

Vanessa crossed her arms. "Well if you don't tell me what it is, I can't help you with it, now can I?"

"Actually, I'd rather show you." The shadow of a grin was playing at the corners of his shapely mouth.

"Then show me already!" Vanessa exclaimed with a giggle.

She suddenly found herself swept up against David, his arms wrapped around her. And his lips… They were suddenly caressing hers with a sweet, seductive tenderness. Vanessa closed her eyes and relished in it. She had been waiting for this kiss for quite a long time…

While Vanessa and David were embracing in the hallway, Clytie, Jack, Ann, and Preston were rushing up onto the deck to aid their captain in any way that they could.

Clytie glanced up at the bridge and spotted Darby and Jimmy. _Good. At least someone capable is handling the ship… _Her attention was drawn to the scene on the deck.

Robbins and another seaman were holding Fabrice between them. Eric stood facing the Frenchman, and there was a very grim look on his face.

Clytie sighed. _Here we go again…_

The German captain's voice carried across the deck. "Armin Varner, Rousseau! Do you even know what kind of man he is? Do you think he's coming all this way just to save your ratty little hide?"

Fabrice smirked. "No. Actually, I think he's coming to exact his revenge on you. He still remembers those war games you beat him at. And the fact that you were offered his position before he was."

Eric turned his back on Fabrice.

Clytie jogged across the deck to her husband's side. "Eric, what exactly is going on here?"

"Rousseau has just alerted Armin Varner to our location, Clytie," Eric said quietly. His blue eyes were stormy. "Do you know who that is?"

"No."

"He is a personal friend of Adolf Hitler," Eric explained. His smile held no mirth. "And an old enemy of mine. Rousseau is nothing compared to him."

"Well we can just go somewhere else, can't we? Can't we hide somewhere so that he can't find us?" Clytie asked.

"Armin is brilliant, _liebchen_. I don't know if that will be possible."

"I heard Rousseau say that you beat him at war games."

This time, the captain's smile was real. "Yes. That's true…"

"Then beat him again!" Clytie exclaimed. "I know you can."

Eric looked out over the ocean for a moment, his eyes alighting on the bubbly wake left by Leviathan. "I suppose I could try. But…" He sighed and turned back to his wife. "We would have to dock somewhere far from here. And that would ruin our entire mission. We haven't gotten much footage on your sea dragon. We still don't even know if it's the only one left, where it sleeps, what it eats…" He gritted his teeth, plainly frustrated.

"Eric, that doesn't matter so much," Clytie whispered, touching his arm. "We can always come back…"

He jerked away from her, facing Rousseau. "But that means we lose."

Clytie understood exactly what he meant. "Ah. I see. This is a game, isn't it? You versus Rousseau and this Varner man. And if they make you give up the mission, then you lose? Eric, the real game is to stay alive! And if staying alive means running and hiding, then we have to do that!"

He ran a hand down his face. "You're right, Clytie. It's just that…" He turned to her, his gaze blue and piercing. "I know how much this creature means to you, to your research. If we run, that will be letting down everyone on board my ship. Jack, Ann, and all the rest."

Clytie glanced over her shoulder at her friends, who were standing across the deck, watching. "I know." She closed her eyes. _Think, Clytie, think. There's gotta be a way out of this mess…_

"Whatever we do, we lose," Eric muttered darkly.

"Eric, you beat this 'brilliant' guy at war games. You've gotten away from Skull Island twice. You got us here, to our dragon… I know you can outwit Varner and Rousseau. There's got to be a way."

Eric rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "Actually… Something just came to me…"

"What is it?" Clytie asked excitedly.

Her husband smiled wryly. "I'll tell you after I throw the French rat back into the hold."

(LINE)

"Full speed ahead, Wilhelm," ordered Armin Varner, standing on the bridge of his ship.

"Aye, sir."

The German officer smiled. His hands were clasped behind his back, his chin lifted, his eyes steady. He was very ready to face his old enemy again. Thank the gods that little French fellow was on board Englehorn's ship. That was a perfect set up. He only wished he himself had thought of sending Rousseau after Englehorn. The Frenchman was the perfect spy. Already, he had betrayed his country in a very helpful way to the Nazi party, in contrast to the way Eric Englehorn had betrayed _his _country--in a very hurtful one.

And now, Armin himself was out to capture the traitor. His smile broadened. Let the games begin…


	13. Restless and Waiting

Chapter Thirteen

Clytie felt a bit weary from the events of the day. Hours had been spent preparing for Armin Varner's arrival, hours spent going over Eric's plan and getting ready to perform it. And precious little time had been spent studying and filming the sea creature, much to Clytie's dismay.

The young wife plopped down on the deck, leaning against cool metal, looking out at the stars that gleamed over the ocean. It was a beautiful night. Leviathan was rolling and splashing in the waves, not far from the ship. The creature didn't seem to mind the propinquity of the _Venture _and its human crew.

Clytie smiled. She felt a sort of fondness for the sea dragon. It showed no aggression toward the sailors. Its only concern seemed to be frolicking and feeding in the ocean…

"Hi there."

Clytie looked up to see Ann Driscoll. "Hey, Ann. Sit down." She patted the surface of the deck beside her.

The actress sat beside her friend. "You look tired, Clytie."

Clytie sighed. "I am. All that work today…"

"Your husband can be such a slave driver!" Ann teased.

The two women giggled.

"Indeed," said Clytie. "I know it's necessary. It's our only chance, but… I'm a recovering invalid, for Pete's sake!"

"And I'm pregnant!" Ann added with a grin.

The two friends settled into an easy silence. Clytie felt suddenly content, rocked by the waves, soothed by the steady sounds of the ship and the ocean. She kept her eyes on the sea creature, enjoying the sight of its ocean play.

"It's female, I'd say," Ann spoke up.

Clytie blinked and looked at her friend. "Now why would you say that?"

Ann shrugged. "I don't know. It just seems like… a girl."

"You might be right, Ann," said Clytie thoughtfully. "The facial structure does suggest a sort of femininity, and usually, males in the animal world are far easier to than females, due to the prominence of…" She stopped and cleared her throat. "Well, you know."

"Leviathan's definitely female, I think," said Ann. "Males tend to be more aggressive, as well, you know. And she hasn't attacked us yet or anything."

"Good point." Clytie raised her eyebrows. "Maybe you should consider a career in biology."

Ann shivered suddenly. "I don't think so. I would get too attached to any animals I would study, and if they died…" She shook her head. "No, I'll stick to the stage."

Clytie nodded. "You do well onstage. You and Jack really have a good thing going with your plays." As the two women talked into the night, Clytie couldn't help but catch the tragedy in Ann's eyes and know that her friend was thinking of Kong…

Ann stood up suddenly, hands on her rounding stomach. "I don't know if I imagined it or not, but… I think the baby just kicked."

Clytie jumped to her feet, grinning. "Really?"

"Yes. I think so." Ann's eyes were positively shining.

It gave Clytie a bittersweet feeling all of a sudden. "Maybe you should rest," she said, touching her friend's shoulder. Her voice was shaky. _What's the matter with me? Why do I feel so strange? _

"You're right. It's getting late." Ann smiled. "I think I'm going to go tell Jack that I felt the baby."

"Good idea." Clytie watched her friend cross the deck, then sighed. There was an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, an uncomfortable feeling, one of not belonging, of perhaps missing something. She walked forward to the railing and stood there, hands gripping the rusty rail, eyes unfocused on the sea in which the dragon played.

"Do you feel all right, my love?"

Strong, warm hands kneaded her shoulders. Clytie leaned back her head, closing her eyes. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I don't feel right."

"Dr. Crane gave us some medicine--"

"It's not that kind of thing." Clytie placed a hand on her husband's. "I just… don't… feel…" Well how did she explain a feeling she didn't understand herself?

Eric wrapped his arms around her from behind, bending his head to rest his chin on her shoulder. "You don't have to explain."

She nodded, swallowing, feeling suddenly, inexplicably like crying.

They were quiet for a while, both of them, quiet and still.

Then Clytie burst out, "Ann is going to have a baby! I want a baby! And I still haven't found out anything much about Leviathan! And this Varner guy wants to kill you or something! And I could have _died _of pneumonia! I'm scared, Eric. I really am. I don't want to lose you, don't want to lose myself, my sanity. I want a family with you! And I want to find out more about that silly sea dragon! Just look at it! It's so happy! It doesn't have anyone trying to hunt it down! And she probably has children!"

Eric kissed her cheek and held her closer. "It will be all right, _liebchen._ We have plenty of time for children. We just got married, my love! And don't worry about Armin Varner. I'll handle him."

That voice, so low and husky and soothing and German… Clytie leaned back into him and sighed. Finally, she smiled. "You're right. I shouldn't be worried, shouldn't be afraid…"

He was practically rocking her where they stood.

And to his surprise--and later to hers--she fell asleep in his arms.

Smiling crookedly, Eric Englehorn swept his sleeping wife up into his arms and carried her to their cabin.

(LINE)

"Stress gets to us all sometimes," Jack said philosophically as he and Eric stood outside of the captain's cabin. It was early in the morning yet.

"I think she'll be fine," Eric said, crossing his arms. He was, in all truth, a bit worried about his wife, but he knew that she was strong, that she would pull through. She was only very tired--emotionally and physically. Just like the rest of them. Only, she had been sick, very sick, not so long ago. "How is Ann?"

"Fine. Just fine." Jack smiled. "I think the baby's growing."

It was on the tip of Eric's tongue to say "that's normal--baby's do that," but he thought better of it and said instead, "Clytie and I are very happy for you." He smiled a little at Jack's obvious pride and happiness. "So… what was it that you needed?"

"Ann just sent me to check on Clytie. That's all."

"Tell her she's fine."

"I will." Jack paused for a moment, then said, "We're all behind you in this thing, you know? Varner and Rousseau don't know who they're messing with." He grinned boyishly. "Well, I think Rousseau's beginning to."

Eric couldn't help but grin at that as well. "Yes. I think he may be doing that."

(LINE)

Oddly, it was Vanessa who spotted the ship first. She was sitting in the stern of the ship, reading a book Clytie had leant her (it seemed everyone borrowed books from Clytie now and then), when she suddenly realized that something was wrong. She stood up from the chair she had dragged to the stern, closing her book and setting it down. What was it that had grabbed her attention?

She shaded her eyes and looked out over the horizon. Nothing appeared unusual.

"You're imagining things, Vanessa Star," she muttered to herself. She bent to pick up her book, then started to sit back down.

Sound.

She straightened quickly. She hadn't _seen _something. She had _heard _something. Concentrating hard, she closed her eyes and listened.

There. There it was. The sound of… Engines!

Her eyes flew opened and she ran to the starboard rail. She squinted against the sunlight… And there it was, barely visible--another ship!

"Sail ho!" Vanessa cried, hoping she didn't sound absolutely ridiculous.

As she stood on the deck wondering what to do next, she realized that she must not have sounded _too _silly, because everyone on the ship was suddenly running around like mad, getting ready for Englehorn's war-game plan.

(LINE)

This was it. Armin Varner had arrived. Eric Englehorn stood at the wheel of his ship, his hands gripping it tightly, his jaw set. _One last war-game, Varner…_

"Don't worry, love. You'll get him."

Eric glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes wide with surprise. "Clytie? Don't you need to be--?"

"No. I'm fine now." She put her arms around him from behind. "I'm sorry I… blinked out on you like that."

"It's all right, Clytie. I know you are tired…"

"Still," she cut him off. "I'm sorry. And I'm here now. I'm going to be strong. For you."

Eric smiled. He took her hand and drew her to stand between him and the wheel. He stood with his arms around her, his hands on the wheel, his face next to hers. He kissed her throat softly, just under her ear, the way she liked it.

"Mmmm." She leaned against him. "Every time I try to be your strength, you end up being mine," she whispered.

"You are mine as well, _liebchen_," he assured her.

"Then we will be strength for each other," Clytie said.

(A/N: I know that was kind of short, and long in coming (that probably makes no sense, lol), but I've had a bit of writer's block lately. I'm glad everyone is still keeping up! I still love writing my King Kong fanfics! Check out my dreamfic, too. Anyway, I would appreciate any reviews (nice ones, please, haha). I look forward to your advice, suggestions, and encouragement! It keeps me going!)


	14. Venture and Corona

Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out! I promise, I'm not abandoning this story. I just had to update some other ones. I also have an account at (I'm marinawings there, too), so it can get hard to keep up with all of my stories at one time.

Chapter Fourteen

Armin Varner allowed himself a smile as Englehorn's tramp steamer came in sight. The man could have been a top-ranking officer in the German Navy, and instead, he had chosen to sail around in a rusty bucket, picking up mangy animals along the way. What was it Rousseau had said he was doing now? Aiding a scientific expedition?

Armin shook his head. The man was a fool.

"Captain, it looks like Englehorn's ship is in trouble." Wilhelm came onto the bridge with a hasty salute.

"What do you mean?" Armin asked quickly.

"Take a look, sir." Wilhelm handed his commander a pair of binoculars.

Armin lifted the device to his eyes. What he saw broadened his smile. "Excellent. This may be easier than I thought." He handed the binoculars back to the young sailor. "Thank-you, Wilhelm. Prepare everyone for the assault." As his aide left the bridge, Armin crossed his arms and sighed. _Your mind must be getting as rusty as your ship, Captain Englehorn…_

(LINE)

Jack put his hands on his hips and nodded. "I think this ship looks satisfactorily stranded. Don't you think?"

Ann squinted, shading her eyes from the sun. "I think so."

According to the captain's instructions, the crew and passengers had arranged and rearranged cargo, covered certain items with tarps and canvas, and splashed nasty-colored paint on rails and siding, giving the _Venture _a look of dereliction. And more than half the crew was hiding below decks, biding their time.

"It looks horrible," Ann said candidly.

"Good," said Jack. He smiled. "I think this might work."

"Except for the armed weapon of war versus the tramp steamer part," added Preston, walking up behind them. "That would be like queen versus pawn…"

"But even an humble pawn can take out the queen," Jack remarked.

Preston inclined his head in agreement.

"And hopefully, we won't be alone in this," Ann said quietly.

"Not if David's message gets through…" said Jack.

(LINE)

Clytie watched the sea dragon, watched it wistfully as it dove under the softly rolling waves. She wished she could breathe under water so that she could dive underneath it and hide. Her nerves were shot, especially now that there was a German destroyer barely a hundred yards away… She turned to look at her husband, who was beside her on the bridge, smoking a cigarette.

"Eric?"

He ground out his cigarette in his ashtray. To Clytie's surprise, his hands were shaking.

"Eric?" she asked again, taking his hands. "Are we going to make it this time?"

"I hope so, Clytie." He met her eyes. "If your godfather comes through…"

"David hasn't heard from him yet?" asked Darby from where he rested his arms on the wheel.

Clytie shook her head, biting her lip. "Not yet. He's still with Robbins, trying to get through." She looked up, looked out the window at the hulking gray shadow that stood out menacingly against the blue of the sky. "Why are they just sitting there like that?"

Eric drew his hands from hers and began lighting another cigarette. His hands were still trembling. "That's the way he plays the game. He waits. He tries to intimidate." He took a long, shaky drag. He turned his head and blew out the smoke, then turned back to Clytie and Darby, smiling grimly. "It never worked before. I always beat him."

Clytie frowned. _Then why is it working now, dearest? Why are you so intimidated?_

Eric narrowed his eyes on her, and she suddenly got the uncanny feeling that he was reading her thoughts.

Suddenly, David rushed onto the bridge. "Jake answered! Clytie, he answered!"

Eric spun on him, flicking his second cigarette into the ashtray. "What did he say?"

David turned to the captain, dark eyes wide. "He said he's coming. And he's bringing the cavalry."

"Good work, Mr. Seaborne," said Eric. "Get the rest of the passengers down below. And tell Jimmy to set those traps on the steps."

"Yes, sir," said David, with a jaunty salute. He gave his sister and encouraging wink before leaving the bridge.

"This is it, then." Eric hooked his thumbs in his belt, looking absently out over the ocean.

Clytie was quiet, not sure what to say.

"I guess it's no use to tell you to get down below," Eric said abruptly, not looking at her.

Clytie bit her lip and looked down.

There was an awkward silence.

Eric turned to his wife, and she looked up at him, shaking her head, her lower lip still held between her teeth.

"No. I'm staying with you."

He smiled wryly. "I thought you'd say that."

Darby cleared his throat. "Captain, do you want me to shoot off those emergency rockets?"

"Go ahead," said Eric.

Darby nodded to him and hurried from the bridge.

Eric suddenly turned to Clytie and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against his chest. He held her there silently, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

Clytie closed her eyes and slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders to link behind his neck. His heart was pounding fast in her ear. "It will be all right," she whispered to him. "You always won before. You'll win now."

He didn't reply, only held her.

Then, Jimmy ran onto the bridge. "Captain, they're signaling us."

Eric lifted his head from Clytie's. "All right. Ready the men."

"Yes, sir."

Jimmy rushed from the bridge.

Eric suddenly took Clytie's face between his hands and kissed her hard on the lips.

Clytie kissed him back, shaking inside.

He drew back from her and took her hands, his eyes looking deep into hers. "Armin Varner is a strong enemy, Clytie. If we don't make it…"

"We will," Clytie insisted firmly, squeezing his hands. "We will," she repeated more quietly.

Eric smiled crookedly. "I do have you, don't I Clytie? I think…. I think that you give me strength, a strength I've never had before."

Clytie blushed, not sure what to say to that.

Her husband kissed her forehead. "Come on, _liebchen_," he said. "We have a nemesis to take down."

(LINE)

Down in the hold, Ann Driscoll sat between her husband and Vanessa Madison. Jack was silent and still, his dark eyes trained upward, as if he were trying to look through the floor of the upper deck and see what was going on. Vanessa, on the other hand, was talking incessantly. The younger woman's voice was shaky and high-pitched, an obvious sign of nervousness.

"So then I told her, 'Of course I'm going with him. It will be the adventure of a lifetime!' And it has been, hasn't it?"

"Yes, Vanessa. It has," Ann replied. She gave her friend an encouraging smile.

"And it's not over yet," added Jack.

Ann glanced at him sharply. She knew that he was right.

"He's right," said Preston, from where he sat across from the Driscolls and Vanessa. "This whole 'war game' thing with Armin Varner… _This _is going to be an adventure."

(LINE)

Darby and Jimmy stood back and watched the emergency rockets burst in the air.

"This would be a lot more dramatic if it was nighttime," Jimmy remarked.

"Aye," said Darby.

The two young men looked across the water at the destroyer. Darby gave a long sigh. "I think they've seen our rockets…"

"Oh no…" Jimmy muttered.

"Well that's what we wanted them to do," Darby said. "They'll see our distress signals and think that we're in distress."

"But… we really _are _in distress, aren't we, Darby?" Jimmy asked quietly.

"Depends on how you look at it," said Darby with a thoughtful frown.

"Darby, we're facing a destroyer, commanded by a top German officer. We have no big guns." Jimmy threw up his hands. "Looks like distress to me."

"Armin Varner is the one in distress," said a voice from behind them.

"Clytie!" Jimmy exclaimed, turning around. "You scared me!"

"I think we're all a bit antsy right now, Jimmy," said Clytie quietly. "But… I still have faith that we can do this." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Jake got David's message. Help is on the way."

At that moment, a loud, heavily-accented voice, obviously aided by a megaphone, rang out over the ocean. "This is Wilhelm Van Buren of the _Corona. _By orders of Captain Armin Varner, I am asking the captain and crew of the _Venture _to surrender unconditionally."


	15. Above and Below

Sorry it's taken me forever long to update. I've been struggling with a cold and allergies lately, my dad took his computer (with all my files) to a conference with him, and I've been getting ready for my birthday (the 16th). I know this is kinda short, but I had to get _something _out. Don't worry--I'm not giving up on this story. I still love writing King Kong stuff! Thanks for keeping up!

Chapter Fifteen

Clytie's stomach clenched at the _Corona_'s command. This was it. The war games had begun. "Jimmy," she said, trying to keep her voice calm, "Go tell the captain what you just heard."

Jimmy was staring at the enemy ship, eyes wide.

"Jimmy! Go!"

"Yes, ma'am!" He saluted her and took off running.

"Darby," said Clytie, "I think it's time to play our parts."

(LINE)

Armin Varner smiled with satisfaction as he came out on the deck of his destroyer, clothed in his elegant military dress jacket. "Is it only my imagination, Wilhelm, or is that a white flag being waved?"

The young sailor saluted his superior. "You're not imagining it, sir. They've surrendered."

"Tell them I want to speak with Englehorn," Armin ordered.

"Yes, sir." Wilhelm lifted up his megaphone and turned to face the _Venture. "Venture, _Captain Armin Varner wishes to speak to your commander. Bring him to the deck immediately." He turned back to his commanding officer. "How is my English?"

"It's fine, Wilhelm."

(LINE)

"Captain, they're asking for you," Darby said as he walked onto the bridge.

"Are they?" Eric sighed, hands on his hips, right thumb brushing over the handle of his pistol.

"Yes, captain."

"Mr. Galyon, hold down the bridge. You know what to do." And with that, he walked around his first mate down to the deck, where Clytie was waiting at the rail. He said nothing, only stood beside her, taking her hand in his.

"Ah! There you are, Englehorn!" Armin's voice rang out over the water. "In trouble, I see."

"Unfortunately, yes," Eric called back. "I was hoping that you would show a little mercy to an old friend and help us out."

"Mercy, eh, Englehorn?" Armin replied. "The same kind that you showed me when we used to play war games together?"

Eric muttered something under his breath in German, something Clytie was sure was a swear word. "I knew he would be like this," he muttered to her. "He hasn't changed at all." He raised his voice and said to his old rival, "No, not that kind. I'm serious, Varner. I'm in trouble."

Armin's harsh laughter drifted back to the Englehorns. "You don't know how happy that makes me, Englehorn. Prepare to be boarded." And with that, the German officer went back inside his ship.

"Well." Clytie linked her arm with her husband's. "You heard the man. Let's prepare to be boarded."

Eric turned to his wife, smiling wryly. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Smoke cigarettes and threaten to shoot people all the time," said Clytie with a wink.

"That's what I do anyway," her husband replied, taking her in his arms.

"Then I guess things aren't that much different because of me," Clytie said, her lower lip protruding in a fake pout.

"Woman!" Eric shook his head, then planted a kiss on Clytie's cheek. "_Everything_ is different because of you," he said, gripping her upper arms and looking down into her eyes. "Don't you forget that." Then he straightened. "Come on. Let's check the traps." He turned to go, and Clytie followed him.

She glanced once over her shoulder before they went below decks.

A rowboat was heading for the _Venture._

Armin Varner was coming.

(LINE)

There was a thump of boots above decks. Ann held onto Jack's arm, her eyes trained above.

"Can you hear anything?" whispered David Seaborne.

His query was met by a chorus of, "Shhhhh!"

"Sorry," he whispered quickly.

Ann concentrated hard on listening to the sounds from above decks. She could hear the low rumble of male voices, but they were too muffled and distant for her to understand what they were saying. "I can't tell what they're saying," she muttered, frustrated.

"Sounds like the captain is talking to the invaders," said Vanessa, eyes wide.

"You're right," said Ann, listening to the voices. "One of those is definitely him."

"And the others… I don't recognize them," added David, scooting closer to Vanessa.

Ann studied the young couple inconspicuously. Their relationship had certainly blossomed on the mission. It looked as if David's "bride search" would be successful, at least for David…

"Hey! That sounds like Clytie!" Preston spoke up.

And indeed, they could all hear a female voice, drifting down from above.

(LINE)

"Why don't we have dinner and talk about our… ahem… terms of surrender?" Clytie spoke up. She kept her hands behind her back, clasped together to keep them from shaking. By her words, she had just set her husband's plan in action.

"At least your wife is civilized, Englehorn," said Armin, raising an eyebrow.

Eric smiled tightly. "So… what do you want, Armin?"

"You can offer me anything you like, _captain_. But you're not going to get out of it this time. I'm taking you back to Germany to be tried as a traitor." He smiled brightly. "And to receive all the awards and recognition I deserve."

Clytie slipped her arm around her husband's. "Well before you take him, let's have some good food, shall we?" She winced at the tremor in her voice.

"I suppose." The German commander crossed his arms, smirking. "Fitting, isn't it? I enjoy the spoils before taking the captain prisoner."

Eric was silent.

Clytie glanced up at her husband, wishing desperately that she could read minds. Why was he being so quiet?

"Well?" The German commander glanced back at the small group of men he had brought aboard with him. "Are you going to let us stand here and starve?"

"Come on." Clytie tugged on her husband's arm. "Let's get to the galley."

"Wait," said Eric.

Clytie frowned. "What--?"

"Captain Varner, what will happen to my wife if you take me back to Germany?" he asked, his voice even, his face expressionless.

"Eric--"

Armin interrupted Clytie. "Nothing. She will get to stay behind. She is an American citizen. Another world war would break out if I took her prisoner as well."

Eric nodded. "All right. Let's go eat dinner."

As she walked beside her husband toward the galley, Clytie felt almost sick with apprehension. Did Eric mean to give himself up? He couldn't, not her husband, not Eric Englehorn. She tugged on his arm, trying to get his attention, shaking her head furiously, trying to tell him "no" without saying a word.

He didn't look at her.

"Eric--"

"We have an excellent cook," the captain said as they entered the galley. "You won't be disappointed."

Clytie was sure she wouldn't be able to eat. Not with the way her stomach was feeling. She knew she had to do something, something to stop her husband from sacrificing himself to save her. _Here we go again…_


	16. Eyebrow Raising and Chloroform

Chapter Sixteen

Eric looked across the table at his wife, thinking how beautiful she looked in that green blouse and that gold locket he had given her. He gave her a reassuring smile, hoping that she did not feel as nervous as she looked.

She gave him a weak smile in reply, then raised her eyebrows.

"Clytie!" Eric muttered as she kicked him under the table.

"What was that, Englehorn?" asked Armin, one eyebrow cocked.

"Nothing," said Eric quickly. He shot a frown at his wife.

She gave him a helpless look.

Before Eric could ask her what was wrong, Hofstetter and Jimmy came in with the food. As before, it was excellent food, a variety of good vegetables, fruit, bread, and meat.

Clytie tugged on Jimmy's arm and whispered something in his ear.

"What did you say to him, Mrs. Englehorn?" asked Armin quickly.

"I was just asking him where on earth they got the sweet potatoes," Clytie replied smoothly.

_She's lying,_ Eric thought. _She always wrinkles her nose like that when she lies. _

"Oh." The German destroyer commander obviously did not know Clytie well enough to catch the bluff. "On with the meal. Yes, yes. I'll take a roll."

The meal proceeded quietly for a while. Then Armin asked, "I assume you served Rousseau in a similar manner."

"Yes," said Eric.

"And where is he now?"

"In the hold," the captain replied. "In a cage, where he belongs." _And where you belong as well, Armin Varner…_

"You'll have to release him to me when I take you into custody," said Armin between bites of sweet potato.

Eric gave his enemy a false salute with his fork.

Armin smiled sourly.

Eric suddenly felt something tap against his toe. He looked over the basket of rolls at his wife.

She mouthed, "Under the table."

The captain bent down, pretending to scratch his ankle, and looked under the table. There was a napkin on top of his shoe--and there was writing on the napkin. Quickly and furtively, he snatched it up and slipped it into his sleeve, then straightened.

"Fleas, I'm sure," Armin remarked airily. "On a ship like this, with all those animals you catch…"

Eric smiled wryly. "You're right. Fleas." He sent his wife a smile.

As Armin and his rather silent officers became more and more absorbed in the food, Eric slid the note out of his sleeve and placed it on the other side of his plate, where the men from the _Corona _could not see it. It read: "What about our plan? What's this about giving yourself up? You know if you do, I'm coming with you. I have to. I don't trust this Varner fellow at all."

Eric looked up and met Clytie's gaze. "Don't worry, my love," he said. "Things will work out." He raised his eyebrows at her, the proceeded to rip up the napkin and slide the pieces to her across the table.

(LINE)

Clytie reached her hand out and touched her husband's, then raised an eyebrow in surprise as she felt something soft pressed under her fingers. The napkin. She slid it beside her plate and glanced down. Eric had ripped it up, leaving only four words and rearranging them to form the broken sentence: "I have plan--trust."

Clytie sighed with relief.

Suddenly, one of Armin's men, a young officer by the name of Wilhelm Something-or-other grabbed his head and muttered, "I don't feel so well, sir. Maybe this food…"

Armin glanced quickly at Eric. "What have you done? If you have tricked me--" He staggered to his feet, his movements oddly clumsy as he groped for the pistol at his side.

"Eric!" Clytie exclaimed, gripping the edge of the table, ready to duck or run if the German officer got his gun out.

"Stay calm, Clytie," said her husband. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "He won't be shooting anyone anytime soon." He smiled calmly at his enemy.

With a muttered curse, Armin collapsed back into his chair, his head falling to the table, joining his men in unconsciousness.

"Eric! What just happened?" asked Clytie.

"A little thing I like to call chloroform," said Eric wryly, standing. He looked over his shoulder. "Jimmy! Hofstetter! Get in here!" He turned back to his wife. "All part of the plan."

"But we've been eating the food, too!" cried Clytie, jumping to her feet, one hand fluttering at her throat.

"Don't worry, my dear." Eric walked around the table to stand at her side. "It was their plates. Hofstetter poured a little chloroform on their plates, then covered it with food."

"Was this your idea?" asked Clytie, leaning with relief against him.

"Yes."

"Well why didn't you tell me it was part of the plan? What about the traps?"

"Clytie, there is a destroyer out there full of Nazi soldiers," said Eric, his chest vibrating pleasantly against his wife's ear. "When their commander doesn't come back to the ship, they're going to come looking for him--either that or try to blow us out of the water." He sighed. "I don't think stopping them will be so easy next time."

Clytie relaxed in his embrace as Jimmy and Hofstetter rushed into the room carrying ropes. The two young sailors quickly tied up Armin Varner and his four officers, taking their weapons as well.

"I thought you were really going to turn yourself in," Clytie whispered as Jimmy, Hofstetter, and Darby began dragging the Nazi officers out of the galley.

"That was Plan B," said Eric.

"Plan B?"

"If he suspected the food was drugged." He gave a short laugh. "I underestimated his arrogance."

"I suppose he's going in a cage with Rousseau now?" Clytie asked.

"Yes. Of course."

Clytie sighed heavily. "Well."

"My thoughts exactly," said her husband.

She grinned wryly. "What now?"

"We wait."

"You know I don't like waiting."

"I know."

"For Jake, right? He's supposed to be bringing the cavalry." Clytie drew back from Eric. "Or is he?" She raised an eyebrow. "You've told me everything else, right? There's nothing you're holding back this time, is there?"

He gave a short laugh. "No. That's it. It's just that…" He looked down, grinning and biting his lip. "Clytie, I didn't tell you because I didn't want you acting like a victor when he came to the table." He looked up at her, still smiling. "That would make him suspicious."

Clytie's mouth formed an "O." "Are you saying that you were worried that I'd give away your plan?"

"Not on purpose, but…" He nodded shortly. "Yes."

"Eric Englehorn!" She shoved his shoulder lightly.

His grin broadened as he grabbed the shoving hand and kissed it. "And I didn't want to worry you, my love."

"Ah, well that's noble." She lifted her chin and prepared her lips for a kiss.

"Captain…"

Eric gritted his teeth. "Yes, Schmidt?"

"There's a man signaling us from the _Corona_," the sailor explained. "He wants to speak with his commander."

Eric muttered something under his breath in German, then turned to face Schmidt. "Any word from Jake Atkins?"

"None, sir."

The captain stood akimbo. "We'll have to stall for time." He bowed his head.

Clytie could tell that he was thinking hard, so she just stood there quietly, chewing on her lower lip and fidgeting with her jewelry.

"Clytie."

Clytie jumped. "Yes?"

"Don't the Driscolls have a gramophone?"

"Yes." Clytie frowned, confused. "Why?"

"You'll see. Follow me."

(LINE)

"Why is it so quiet up there?" asked Vanessa, her eyes wide.

"That's a good sign, I think," said David encouragingly. He laid his hand inconspicuously on her shoulder. "At least there's no fighting going on or--or anything like that."

Vanessa suddenly noticed the hand on her shoulder. She looked down at it, then lifted her eyes to meet David's. She smiled brightly. "You are so sweet to me, David Seaborne," she whispered.

David grinned broadly. "That's because you're so sweet," he replied, hoping he didn't sound like a fool.

"Does anyone have a bucket? I'm about to puke in my cage," came Fabrice Rousseau's voice from behind them.

"Be quiet," David ordered.

"You're just jealous," Vanessa added.

"Sh!" Preston exclaimed from across the hold. "Someone's coming!"

And sure enough, there was the pounding sound of shoes on the stairs.

Vanessa slid closer to David. David slipped his arm around her.

"Get ready to fight," said Jack, moving between his pregnant wife and the bottom of the stairs. "If it's more of those German officers--" He glanced back at the filled cages.

"Jack! Ann!"

There was a collective sigh of relief at the sound of Clytie's voice.

"What is it, Clytie?" asked Ann as her friend descended into the hold.

"I need your gramophone!" Clytie announced.

"What!? Why!?" Jack exclaimed.

Clytie smiled. "My husband has another plan."


	17. The Free and the Caged

Chapter Seventeen

"Do you think this is loud enough?" Clytie hollered over the booming of music from the gramophone.

"I think so," Eric called back, nodding. "They should be able to hear it on the _Corona._"

"Do you want me to go out there and speak to them?"

"No, no. You stay in here. With me. I'll send someone else."

Clytie nodded. "Ah. I understand. They would expect us to remain in here with their commander." She smiled. "Such good hosts, aren't we, my love?"

There was a shadow of a smile on Eric's lips. "Indeed."

(LINE)

"Your commander is busy, _Corona_," Darby called to the German destroyer. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait." The sound of big band music was so loud that the first mate was tempted to cover his ears.

One of the German sailors yelled something in reply.

"What? I can't hear you?" Darby called back, smiling. "And I don't understand German! You'll have to speak up--in English!" He chuckled at the frantic bustling on the deck of the _Corona. _"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to go!" he yelled. "Your commander is dancing with the passengers, and I need to change the music!" He glanced behind him at David Seaborne, who had appeared on cue, dressed in a fine suit.

"Mr. Galyon! Come on inside and join the fun!" the young archaeologist said loudly, affecting the stagger of a slightly tipsy man.

Darby sent the confused Nazi sailors a shrug. He turned to David, and as he did so, something behind the other man gave him a bit of a start. "David," he said through his teeth. "Turn around."

David's eyes went wide. It must be something dangerous behind him… Slowly, he turned--and nearly melted inside. Yes, indeed, it was something dangerous.

Vanessa Star Madison stood there, clad in a dress of pale blue, a dress covered with silver glitter, a dress that hugged her feminine curves, a dress that flared out from the knees, a dress with no sleeves, a dress with a very wide, slightly low neckline, revealing and covering all the right things, giving the perfect impression of elegance and sultriness.

"V-Vanessa!" David stammered out.

Darby clapped a hand on his shoulder from behind and muttered, "I think I'll be going inside." With that, he slipped past David and Vanessa and went down to the galley.

David slid his hands into his pockets and looked around, looked everywhere but at Vanessa. "You look--you look beautiful, Vessy."

"Thank-you." She giggled lightly.

He finally looked at her. "I mean it. I really do."

Her giggling halted instantly. "I know." Her dark blue eyes were serious.

"Do you?" He cleared his throat and took a step closer to her, feeling suddenly brave. He reached out and touched her face, his thumb running softly along the line of her jaw.

Vanessa closed her eyes and stood still. "Yes, I know it," she whispered. "I know how you feel about me." She trembled slightly against his touch, then opened her eyes. "And I hope you know that I…" She smiled and blushed. "I feel the same about you."

David grinned winsomely. "Good," he said. Then he kissed her lips.

The kiss lasted much longer than either of them had expected, evolving into something deep and warm and full of promise.

When they finally drew back, Vanessa bit her lip and giggled.

David frowned. "What's so funny?"

"Oh David!" Vanessa giggled. "Now those Germans will _really _believe we're having a party!"

Hazel eyes wide, David glanced back over his shoulder. Sure enough, the German sailors were watching. They had obviously seen the kiss.

"Shall we go inside?" asked Vanessa.

David met her eyes, smiling softly. "No. There's no need to ruin the show for them." And he kissed her again.

(LINE)

"It's working--so far," said Clytie as she looked through a rather cloudy glass at the deck. She smiled wryly at the sight of her brother and Vanessa and their warm embrace.

"All this is doing is stalling for time," her husband replied. He noticed that Clytie was tapping her fingers against the window in time to the music. That made him smile.

She turned to face him. "Shall we dance?"

"I suppose," he said.

Clytie affected a frown. "What? You don't want to dance with your wife?" she asked teasingly, walking to stand close in front of him.

"Clytie, now's not the time," Eric protested.

She reached up and placed a long, smooth finger against his lips. "Just dance with me, Eric."

He relented. How could he not, with those winsome green eyes looking up at him? He took his wife into his arms and held her close against him, then began to sway in time to the music, taking her with him. She rested lightly in his arms. It was so natural to be like that--together and close.

Then he noticed that her hands were trembling.

"Clytie," he whispered in her ear. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." Her reply was breathed lightly, less than a whisper.

"No, you're lying. What's wrong?"

She rested her head against his chest, the fingers of her left hand playing with his hair. "I just… I hope this all works out. And if it doesn't…" She was quiet for a moment. "I wanted one last dance with you."

"Don't worry, _liebchen_," he said, with more confidence than he felt. "Everything is going to be fine."

As soon as the words passed his lips, there was a loud cry, followed by shouting, easily heard over the sound of the music.

Clytie drew back from her husband. "Eric? What's going on?"

"I don't know." He gave her a quick, reassuring smile, then slipped from her grasp and walked quickly to the window. "There are lights going on and off all over the _Corona._" He could see men running on the deck in the fading light of dusk. "They seem to be in a panic." He turned back to Clytie. "Come on. Let's get to the deck."

Clytie glanced past him, looking out at the other ship. Her lips curved slowly into a smile. "Eric… I think they've seen our dragon."

(LINE)

Jack, Ann, and Darby all watched with interest as the crew of the German destroyer first beheld the sea dragon known to the _Venture _as Leviathan.

"The music is perfect," Jack muttered, mostly to himself. "If this were a play, that's the music I would pick."

The music blaring from the gramophone did indeed fit the scene. It was a fast and frantic classical piece. The German naval officers seemed to be scrambling around the deck in time to the music, and Leviathan, oblivious to the stir she was causing, seemed to dance to it in the waves.

"What if they call for aid?" Ann spoke up quietly, her eyes fixed on the scene of mass confusion before her.

"That could be bad, but…" Darby straightened from where he had been leaning on the rail. "We've already done that. And if I'm not overestimating the importance of Mr. Jake Atkin's connections, I'd say that even whatever aid they call might not be enough to face the cavalry we've got coming."

"I like the sound of that," said Jack.

(LINE)

Armin Varner woke up with a headache and a sore neck. He sat up slowly, eyes closed, and rubbed the back of his neck. Then, cautiously, he opened his eyes, sighing with relief when he realized that the light (wherever he was) was dim.

"So. They got you, too."

That voice, silky and sardonic, was all too familiar.

"Rousseau." Armin turned. And sure enough, there was Fabrice Rousseau, sitting against the bars of the cage they shared, arms crossed, tossing his long dark hair out of his eyes with an elegant move of his head.

"How did they get you? Did Englehorn punch you in the face, or did he let his little cat claw you?"

"Neither. Chloroform."

Fabrice gave a short, unhappy laugh. "That's his style, I suppose."

Armin frowned. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here right now." Then he smiled. "I should teach you a lesson here and now."

"What are you going to do? Break my nose?" Fabrice asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "That's already been done, my friend."

"There will be no nose breaking in there," came a voice from outside the cage.

"Thank-you, Preston," said Fabrice, keeping his eyes on his German counterpart. "See? At least there's a _touch _of civility on this ship."

Armin looked behind him and between the bars. A young man with glasses sat in a rickety wooden chair at a makeshift table (comprised of a barrel and a legless tabletop), bent over a chessboard. The German officer assumed this was Preston. "Playing by yourself?" he called to the man.

"No. Just waiting for Jimmy," Preston answered absently. "It's his turn."

"Sometimes, I get the honor of being guarded by a famous movie star," Fabrice said, smiling grimly. "Bruce Baxter. Heard of him?"

"This is insane!" Armin exclaimed. He stood and grabbed hold of the bars. "Do you have any idea who I am? I am a--"

"High ranking officer in the German Navy. Yes, I know." Preston glanced up from his chessboard. "I'd much appreciate it if you would settle down. The game of chess calls for concentration and strategy. Neither is very easy with you making such noise."

Fuming, Armin sat down on a wooden bench in the corner of the cave. "Where are my men?" he called to his warden.

"In another cage. You can't see it from where you are. Ah! Here comes Jimmy!"

Another young man came down into the hold. He was younger than Preston, and his clothes looked far less expensive. He sat across from Preston at the "table," and the chess game resumed.

"This is madness," Armin muttered.

"You see now why I was so desperate to get out," said Fabrice.

"Indeed," Armin replied.


	18. Distractions and Developments

I am dreadfully sorry that I haven't updated sooner, but the holiday season has been pleasant chaos for me, therefore I have not had the time to update. And, yeah, this chapter is extraordinarily short, but… I just _had _to update.

Chapter Eighteen

Leviathan sliced through the water with a powerful grace, frolicking and playing in the waves not a hundred yards from the German destroyer.

Clytie, Eric, David, Vanessa, and Darby all stood on the bridge watching it.

"It's really kind of… pretty, if you look at it the right way," said Vanessa, tilting her head to the side, blue eyes trained on the dragon-like creature.

"And it has shown no signs of being aggressive toward humans," Clytie added, crossing her arms. "That's definitely a good thing for us."

"Let's hope the men on the _Corona _don't figure that out before help arrives," the captain spoke up. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "We're not match for a destroyer class ship. They have weapons. We don't."

"But some of our friends do," said David cheerfully. "Don't worry. They should be here in an hour or so."

"An hour is all it takes to get blown out of the water, lad," Darby pointed out. The he smiled. "But I have a feeling that our sea dragon of a friend will be a great help to us by stalling for time. Those Nazis have never seen the like of Leviathan, that's for sure. I'd be willing to bet on that." He held up his hands. "Anyone want to bet against me?"

They all groaned.

"You and your betting and crazy contests, Galyon," muttered Eric.

(LINE)

As the last song finished playing on the gramophone, Ann quickly set it to start back over. "There." She sighed and leaned against the wall. "Between Leviathan and the music, perhaps those Germans will be confused enough not to wonder about the absence of their commander."

Standing across from her, Jack laughed. "It's like an elaborate plot from a spy novel." He tapped his fingers together, raising one eyebrow thoughtfully. "You know, it might make a good play. All of this. That inspiration in Newfoundland, and now this crazy distraction. Only…" He grinned. "I don't know if I'll ever find anyone who can play the dragon."

"Well by the time we get back to New York, I'll be huge," said Ann, patting her stomach. "Then _I _can play the dragon."

Jack crossed the galley to stand before her, grinning lopsidedly. "You'd make a lovely dragon," he teased.

She playfully smacked his shoulder. "Oh stop it! You're supposed to say something to the affect that I'll never be that huge or a dragon is unworthy of my astounding beauty."

"Well maybe this will make up for it," said Jack, touching her face. Then he bent down and kissed her.

(LINE)

Preston and Jimmy were watching the prisoners and playing chess in the hold when things started to happen. The blaring music from above decks suddenly cut off, replaced by shouting and yelling.

Preston stood up quickly, knocking into the makeshift table with his knee and upsetting some of the chess pieces. "Jimmy, one of us needs to go see what's happening up there," he said quickly. "I have a feeling it can't be anything good."

"I'll go," said Jimmy, standing a bit more gracefully than his friend. He grinned suddenly. "If it's dangerous, you need to stay down here. You need to stay alive so you can go back to your Canadian sweetheart. _Amanda_."

"Just go, Jimmy," said Preston, standing akimbo.

Jimmy saluted, then darted up the stairs.

Now Preston was left alone with the prisoners. He stood there quietly for a moment, studying them. Fabrice Rousseau seemed bored with life, leaning with a languid elegance against the back of his dark, dank cage, one knee drawn up with an arm draped gracefully across it. He appeared to be posing for some sort of picture. Armin Varner, on the other hand, was pacing back and forth, glancing upward at every loud noise.

"Do either of you play chess?" Preston asked, trying to get his mind off of any disaster that might be happening on the decks.

Fabrice shrugged.

Armin glared.

Both were silent.

Suddenly, there was the sound of shoes clunking on the stairs.

Preston tensed.

But it was only Bruce Baxter. "Hey, buddy," the actor said, nodding his head at Preston. "Mind if I hide out down here with you?"

Preston shook his head, frowning. "Bruce, what's going on up there?"

The actor plopped down into the chair Jimmy had vacated. "I think the Germans have figured out that something fishy is going on over here. They're insisting on bringing a party over to search the ship." He shrugged. "I'm not much use in those kind of situations, so… I came down here."

"Oh." Preston stared at the other man for a moment, then motioned to the chess board. "Chess?"

"Sure."

The two young men sat down and began a game, while the two prisoners looked on. A few minutes into the game, Preston knew he was winning.

"You fool!" Armin called to Bruce from the cage. "You just about lost your queen with that move. Pay attention!"

"I'm trying. Shut up!" Bruce replied.

"Actors," groaned Fabrice.

Preston was about to make a similar remark about flamboyant French captains named Rousseau, when there was once again a pounding on the stairs. He looked up to see Captain Eric Englehorn and Jack Driscoll coming down into the hold, both armed.

Eric stepped forward, facing the cage. "Armin Varner," he said. "You're coming with me."


	19. Danger and a Dragon

Once again, please hold back the virtual tomatoes! Sorry I took so long (again) to update. I've been in a state of slight depression lately, meaning that I just don't have the heart to write. But thanks to Josh Groban (lol), I'm back happy again, so here's the next chapter (you might want to thank Josh Groban for this one, lol).

Chapter Nineteen

The barrel of the Nazi soldier's gun was cold against Clytie's temple, and she shivered. She glanced to her right, toward where Ann was also being held captive by a soldier. _Why is it always us? The two of us can't seem to stay out of danger for three seconds. We end up causing so much ridiculous trouble for our husbands!_ She looked down and shook her head.

The soldier holding onto Clytie started hollering in German, and Clytie looked up. A smile brightened her face. "Eric!" she called.

The captain of the _Venture _was coming up onto the deck with a tight grip on Armin Varner. "Release my wife and Mrs. Driscoll, and I'll release your commander!" he shouted. His eyes were sharp with anger.

The Nazi holding Clytie shook his head. "You release him first. _We _make the terms."

Eric whipped a pistol from his belt and held it to Armin's head. "Release Clytie and Ann or he dies."

"No!" the soldier snapped. "Release Herr Varner or your women die!"

Clytie held her breath, sure that _someone _was going to die.

Eric yelled something in German, and the two soldiers holding the women captive replied. There was a brief, heated exchange, of which Clytie could understand little. Then suddenly, the soldier holding Clytie released her, shoving her forward. Clytie noticed that Armin Varner and Ann had also been released. She met Ann's eyes. The actress shrugged.

"Step forward," the soldier who had captured Ann ordered.

Clytie nodded to Ann, and the two young women started to walk forward slowly. Clytie glanced over her shoulder. To her horror, more German soldiers were boarding the _Venture. _She forced herself to look forward again, and this time, she kept her eyes on her husband, who was pushing Armin forward.

Soon, Ann, Clytie, and Armin reached the middle between where Eric, Jack, Vanessa, David, and Darby stood and where the Nazi seamen stood.

"Stop there. All of you," Eric ordered. His voice was cool, but Clytie could tell that he was steaming inside.

Suddenly, Armin reached out and grabbed Clytie. She screamed and struggled, but it was to no avail. His grip was strong.

"I'll be taking her with me," Armin announced. He motioned for Ann to continue walking.

The actress hesitated.

"Go on, Ann," Clytie said quietly, her voice shaking.

"Clytie--"

"Everything will work out. Do as he says." _God, please… I don't want anyone to get hurt…_

Ann nodded slowly, then rushed forward into the arms of her husband.

Armin dragged Clytie backwards toward the group of Nazi soldiers standing on the edge of the deck.

"Let her go!" Eric shouted.

Armin did not reply, but kept moving toward the rail where the soldiers were gathered.

Eric lifted his pistol, settling it on the wrist of his left hand. "Let her go, or I shoot you."

"Shoot me, and my men shoot you!" Armin replied, smiling.

"Don't do it, Eric!" Clytie cried, her stomach clenching with fear for her husband. "I'll be all right."

"Clytie, I can't let him take you!" Eric cried.

Suddenly, one of the Nazi soldiers shouted, "_Drache!"_

And chaos broke loose.

Eric fired at Armin at the same time a German seaman fired his rifle. Armin staggered and fell, releasing Clytie, who hit the deck hard and was momentarily stunned. As she sat catching her breath and holding her aching head, Clytie could hear shouts, two more gunshots… And suddenly, someone grabbed her by the arm, jerking her to her feet. It was one of the Nazi soldiers. Her wits clearing, Clytie struggled against her assailant, who kept shouting in German, repeating the word _drache. _

Drache… _dragon…_

Clytie suddenly realized that Leviathan had reappeared close by, throwing the Nazi crew into a panic. Twisting free from her attacker's grip, she ran to the rail, eyes trained on the ocean. Then she spotted the sea dragon--swimming right between the two ships! She turned from the railing, searching the chaos for any sign of her husband, worried for his safety.

And then, Armin Varner rose up in front of her, glaring, clutching a bloodstained sleeve. He reached out to grab her, and she dodged. But somehow, she lost her balance--and went tumbling over the rail.

Clytie screamed, then quickly gasped in a breath, just before she hit the cold water. The shock of it knocked her senseless for a moment, but she managed to float up to the surface, gasping.

Someone shouted, "Clytie!" It sounded like Ann.

And someone else shouted. "Look! American ships!"

Clytie sighed in relief and floated on her back, glad that the "cavalry" had arrived, trying not to think about what might have been the result of the gunshots she had heard. She glanced over at the Germans' rowboat. It was empty. That meant that all the Nazis who had been in that little boat were now on the _Venture_…

And suddenly, something brushed up against her legs, something oddly warm in the cold water.

Clytie gasped, shivering with fear and cold. There was something in the water with her…

And then it came up beneath her, lifting her up out of the water. She screamed and clutched at whatever it was beneath her, hoping that it was not a shark…

_Leviathan!_

Clytie laughed suddenly, throwing her head back, half hysterical. She was riding on the back of a sea monster!

The sea dragon floated between the ships with Clytie sitting shivering on its shoulders. This creature had saved her! She laid down on its smoothly scaled skin, closing her eyes as its body warmth seeped into her, comforting her. _Dolphins do this. They rescue people. But dragons… I must be the first person to ever be rescued by a dragon!_

Gunshots sounded around her, accompanied by shouting, but Clytie was not listening. The warmth of Leviathan's body and its gentle movement had lulled her to sleep.

(LINE)

"Where's Clytie!?" Eric cried, grabbing hold of Jack's shoulder.

"Last I saw, she was over there." Jack pointed to where a group of American naval officers were handcuffing the German soldiers. "By that rail."

Eric fought to keep calm, fought to keep from panicking. "Is Ann all right?" he asked.

Jack nodded. "She's in the cabin, resting."

"Are you sure Clytie's not with her?"

"I'm sure."

Eric pressed his lips together, his stomach clenching. "Jack, do you mind helping me find my wife?"

"No. Not at all."

"Thank-you."

"No problem, captain." Jack shrugged. "Where do you want me to start?"

(LINE)

"Hofstetter! Hofstetter!"

The dark-haired cook looked up from his pots to see Vanessa Star Madison running into the galley, blue eyes wide.

"Yes? What is it?"

"You need to come with me! David's hurt!" Vanessa cried.

"All right. I'm coming."

(LINE)

Clytie was dreaming. In her dream, she was very young, perhaps thirteen years old. She was playing in a forest with her brother--and a dragon. They were playing hide and seek. The dragon always lost because she was too big to hide…

"Clytie!"

Clytie stirred, her dream fading away. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, then opened them. At first, she did not know where she was, and then-- "Oh!" She sat up quickly, green eyes wide. She was looking into the face of Leviathan, her sea dragon.

"Clytie! Don't panic!" It was Eric's voice. "I'll get you!"

"It's okay, Eric," she called back, still holding the dragon's gaze. "She--she's friendly, I think."

"What!?"

"This dragon… rescued me," Clytie said breathlessly. She reached out to touch the creature's cheek, laughing as the dragon closed its eyes and leaned into her hand, making a purring nose deep in its throat. She looked up at her husband, who was leaning over the rail, and her smile softened. _Eric… I'm so glad he's all right! _"Is everyone else okay?"

"Everyone but David."

Clytie's heart missed a beat. "What?"

"He's injured. Not badly, but…"

"What happened?"

"I shot Varner, and one of his men shot David," Eric explained. "Then your godfather showed up with part of the United States Navy. They've captured Varner and his men. I think they'll have to send them back to Germany, though, if they don't want a war." He laughed suddenly. "How can I come get you?"

Clytie grinned. "I guess you'll just have to lower a boat." She patted Leviathan's neck. "Of course, my new friend here might object to you taking me away."

(A/N: I know that seems too easy, doesn't it? But... It's not over yet. And the Englehorns have some very sneaky enemies...)


	20. New Friends and Old

Hi there, everyone! I hope you're having a great day! I am! I watched Josh Groban's "Live at the Greek" dvd last night and also the movie "Flyboys." Excellent stuff, there. So now I'm in a good mood. Yay! And I'd like to thank all of you for your most wonderful and encouraging reviews! Anyway, this is a bit of a filler chapter, but it sets up for more action.

Chapter Twenty

Clytie rested wearily across the sea dragon's shoulder blades, her eyes on the rowboat that was drifting nearer. She smiled tiredly at the sight of her husband standing in the bow, looking for all the world like that picture of George Washington in all those history textbooks. Jimmy and Robbins were at the oars, both of them looking a bit pale, probably anxious about being close to an actual sea monster.

Leviathan lifted her scaly head out of the water to watch the little boat with interest.

"They're my friends," Clytie whispered to the dragon, rubbing the back of its head. "They've come to get me."

As if that explained everything, the creature settled its head back on the surface of the water.

The space between Leviathan's back and the rowboat was very small by now.

"Clytie!" Eric called, motioning for the rowers to cease. "Come on." He held out his hand to her.

Clytie took her husband's hand and easily hopped into the rowboat. She was immediately engulfed by warm, strong arms, returning the embrace with fervor. "Oh, Eric! I'm so glad everyone's okay!"

"I'm so glad _you're _okay," he murmured in her ear.

She drew back slightly from him, eyes bright and round. "I think--I think our sea dragon is a mammal, Eric!" she exclaimed. "Warm blooded, whiskers, dolphin-like in her psychology--it all adds up! What a discovery! Do you think--?"

He silenced her with a kiss. "We'll talk about this on the ship. Right now, I'm just glad you're all right." He studied her face for a long time, then cradled her against his chest. "You're freezing," he said quietly. "Let's get back to the ship."

(LINE)

"I'll be all right, Vanessa. Stop looking at me like that."

Vanessa quickly averted her eyes from the scene of Hofstetter examining David's rather bloody arm. "I'm just worried about you. That's all."

"I know. And _I'm _worried about _you. _You look awfully pale. You don't have to be in here, you know."

"But I want to be with you." She met his gaze and smiled softly. "You're going to have an awfully hard time getting rid of me from now on, David Seaborne."

He grinned weakly. "That's a good thing." Then he groaned as Hofstetter lifted up his injured arm. "What are you _doing_?"

"I'm checking for an exit wound." The dark little cook frowned. "And there isn't one. That means the bullet is still in your arm."

"Great." David sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

Vanessa felt her stomach clench. "You can get the bullet out, can't you?" she asked the cook.

Hofstetter tilted his head to one side. "Well… I don't have the tools I'd prefer to use for this job. I can do it now, but… It would be a very rough, very crude, very painful operation." He tapped his lower lip with one long forefinger. "We should probably head back to Newfoundland and get you to Dr. Crane. He's an excellent doctor, from what I hear."

David nodded. "All right." He grinned slowly. "Preston will be glad to hear that."

(LINE)

Things were pretty much back to normal on the _Venture. _The tramp steamer was about to be escorted back to Newfoundland by one of Navy ships, a cruiser carrying the prisoners from the _Corona, _including the wounded and angry Armin Varner.

Now that things had settled down, Preston was glad to return to his chess tournament in the hold. He and Bruce sat down at the makeshift table for a rematch, while Jimmy looked on, waiting to play the winner.

From his cage, Fabrice Rousseau watched with interest, not hesitating to criticize the players. "Preston, my friend, you are a brilliant player, but I must say, that last move was not very wise."

Preston gritted his teeth. "I have a reason for every move I make. And I would thank you not to be so critical."

Fabrice shrugged elegantly. "Have it your way. I was just trying to be helpful." He shrank back into the shadows of his cell. "So… what will be done with me now?"

"What do you mean?" Preston asked, not looking up from the chess board.

"Well it looks like your Navy is sending those Germans packing." The Frenchman examined his fingernails, then buffed them on his sleeve. "So what about me? Will I be tried as a traitor or what?"

Bruce shot him a glare. "Look, fella, we don't care about your sob story. We're trying to play a game of chess here, in case you haven't noticed."

"If you were sitting in this cage with so uncertain and dangerous a future, you would be asking questions, too, wouldn't you, Mr. Baxter?"

Bruce tilted his head to one side, considering the French captain's words.

"Just ignore him," said Preston quickly. "We have a game to play."

(LINE)

"Clytie!" David's face broke into that beautiful smile of his as his sister entered the room. "You made it!"

"So did you!" she replied, grinning. She had always found her brother's smile infectious. She sat in the chair beside of his bunk. It was warm, probably recently vacated by Vanessa. "Jake sends his greetings. He's on the _Pride. _We're so glad you made it. But you're not unscathed, I see."

He grimaced and nodded toward his bandaged arm. "Nope. Not unscathed." His hazel eyes widened. "I hear you ended up being rescued by a dragon."

"Yes." She nodded, her voice still full of awe at what had happened. "Scientifically speaking, I'd say that Leviathan is not aggressive toward humans, displaying many characteristics similar to those of dolphins."

"So it's friendly?"

"She, I think. And yes. Very friendly."

David relaxed against his pillow, closing his long-lashed eyes. "I'm happy for you, sis."

"And _I _am happy for _you_," Clytie whispered.

He opened one eye. "Why?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Vanessa, of course. I like her. You should marry her. She's perfect for you."

David closed his eye and laughed softly. "I think you're right, Clytie. I should…" And suddenly, he was asleep.

"Wow. He must be exhausted."

Clytie turned around, smiling to see Ann in the doorway. "Yeah. Sleep is probably very good for him right now."

Ann leaned against the doorframe, a pensive look in her eyes. "So… you made friends with our sea monster, did you?"

Clytie nodded. "She rescued me."

Ann nodded absently, a faraway look in her eyes.

_Kong, _Clytie thought. _She's thinking of King Kong. _She shivered suddenly, upset by the thought that what happened to Kong might one day happen to Leviathan…

"I'm sorry." Ann ran a hand through her hair, looking sheepish. "I was just… lost in thought."

"I understand," Clytie said quietly. She stood and rearranged the blankets covering her brother, then turned to her friend. "I know what it's like now, to make friends with an amazing creature. I hope--I hope nothing bad happens to her."

"We won't let anything bad happen to your Leviathan," Ann said fiercely.

(LINE)

"This is going to be excellent footage." Preston had left his chess tournament to take a few shots of Leviathan before the ship headed back to Newfoundland. "She's a real ham."

"Do you think she'd let me ride her?" Jimmy wondered aloud from his place by the rail.

"I don't know," Preston replied, pushing up his glasses. "She certainly didn't mind letting Clytie." He grinned impishly. "Then again, Clytie's a lot prettier than you are."

Jimmy snorted. Then he sobered. "But it would be fun, wouldn't it? Riding a sea dragon?"

"Yes. I suppose it would." _And probably quite frightening, as well. _He bent down to look through the camera again. "Move back, Jimmy. You're blocking the view."

Jimmy shrugged and stepped back. "Is that better?"

"Yeah." Preston started winding the crank, smiling. The sea dragon looked beautiful, leaping and swimming in the waves. This was certainly the best project he had ever undertaken.

(LINE)

Locked in the brig of the _U.S.S. Pride_, Armin Varner fumed--and plotted his revenge. There was no way he was going to let Englehorn get away with this one…


	21. Leaving and Arriving

Thanks, everyone, for all the inspiring reviews! You keep me going! And sorry it took so long to update. You know me and my unpredictability when it comes to updating.

Chapter Twenty-one

"Newfoundland? Is that where you're going?" Armin Varner sat up from his cot, feigning interest with his cool eyes.

"Yes." Jake Atkins nodded slowly, arms folded over his chest. "There's a doctor there who's friends with the passengers and crew of the _Venture._ We're going to see that he takes care of David." The older man's eyes darkened at the mention of his injured godson.

Armin smiled, enjoying the anger he had caused the old man. "Ah, yes. Poor David." He was quiet for a moment, considering the situation, trying to think of a way to use it to his advantage. _Aha! What is it those dratted Americans say? Bingo! _"What is this doctor's name?"

Jake's frowned deepened. He was obviously wondering whether or not to give out that information. Finally, he shrugged. "Dr. Crane, I believe." He turned his back to the prisoner. "Captain Jenkins will be with you momentarily to discuss terms of your deportation."

Before he could leave the brig, Armin called, "What if I were to turn in a spy?"

Jake whirled around, eyes wide. "A spy?"

"Yes. A Canadian man who is secretly working for the German government." Armin smirked. "Working with me."

The older man raised a graying eyebrow. "What do you mean to gain by this?"

"Leniency, naturally." Armin laced his fingers together and leaned forward, keeping his features bland. "Of course, I know that I will be sent home no matter what, but… The manner of my return is not yet settled, is it? If I help your American compatriots capture a spy, do you think that I can perhaps be returned to my home country in a more honorable manner?"

"You'll have to discuss this with Captain Jenkins. This is his ship. He's the one in charge of your deportation."

"Of course." Armin sat back. "Do you mind fetching him for me?"

Jake shook his head. "This is an important matter, definitely something he can be bothered with." And with that, he left the brig.

Armin grinned and laid back down on his cot. Things were going quite smoothly. Now… He closed his eyes. Now he had to plan out the rest of his little deception.

(LINE)

"I'm going to miss her," Clytie said quietly as she watched the last footage Preston had taken of Leviathan. He had set up a sheet in the galley so that everyone could watch his shots of the friendly sea dragon. Clytie felt a renewed warmth flooding through her veins as she watched the creature swimming and leaping in the ocean. Her friend…

"We'll come back to her," Jack spoke up from where he sat with his wife at one of the tables.

Clytie glanced back at him, flashing him a smile. "I hope so."

"I heard your husband talking about it with Darby," Ann said. "I think he said he was planning on going back as soon as David gets better."

"Oh, that would be splendid!" Clytie exclaimed. She walked around the table she had been leaning against to sit beside of Ann. "You two would come back with us, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," said Jack. He picked up his notepad from the table. "I still need more information for a good piece on Leviathan."

"If you were writing a story on espionage, you'd certainly have enough information," Preston remarked, switching off the projector.

"That's for sure," said Jack. "It's been pretty exciting around here lately."

Clytie sighed and set her elbows on the table, cupping her chin in her hands. "I'm not one to shy away from a little adventure, but…" She sighed again, laughing. "I'm a bit worn out by this mess!"

Ann smiled. "I think we all are!"

"I just hope Armin Varner doesn't cause any more trouble for us," Clytie said quietly.

"Yeah," Preston agreed. "I'm hoping for a nice, pleasant respite in Newfoundland."

"I'm sure Amanda will make your respite quite nice and pleasant, Preston," Jack said with a twinkle in his eye.

(LINE)

"So how are things going?"

Eric turned around to see his wife stepping onto the bridge. As usual, he took a moment to just look at her before speaking, absorbing the fact that this beautiful, mysterious creature was in love with him, was his _wife_. "Fine so far." He smiled wryly. "Although that state doesn't seem to last long on my ship."

"You look tired." She stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

He could feel the coolness of her fingers through the fabric of his shirt. "I am." Turning his eyes back to the horizon, he sighed. "We'll be in Newfoundland in a few hours. Then we can rest."

"Okay." She leaned her head against his back. "Why don't you take a break now?"

He looked back at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Darby can take the wheel. He's quite capable."

A slow smile curved his lips. "You're argument is quite logical, _liebchen._"

"Yes. I know." She was smiling, as well, that little close mouthed smile that highlighted her plump lower lip, that brought out mischievous twinkle in the green of her eyes.

Eric slipped from her grasp and walked through the doorway. "Jimmy!" he called upon spotting the young sailor.

"Yes, sir?"

"Tell Galyon that I need him on the bridge."

"Yes, sir."

Eric walked back onto the bridge, hands on his hips. "So, wife, what is that you want with me?" he asked with mock gravity.

A few minutes later, she showed him exactly what she wanted.

(LINE)

"Your sister and her husband are so sweet."

David raised an eyebrow. Englehorn? Sweet? "You have an interesting way of looking at things, Vanessa Star," he said, grinning crookedly. His grin suddenly faded as his throat grew tight. He reached out and touched Vanessa's cheek. "_You _are the sweet one."

Vanessa blushed prettily and looked down. "Thank-you," she said quietly.

"I mean it," David continued pointlessly. She obviously knew that he meant it. "Vanessa, I gave in to you coming with me on this--this voyage because--because--" _Oh dear. The great orator David Seaborne loses his grasp on oration_. "Because I wanted something to happen between us. I wanted you to find out how I feel about you. And to know--" She was laughing by now. And so was he. "To know," he went on through his laughter, "Exactly how you feel about me."

"I think by now we both know how the other feels about us," Vanessa giggled.

"I suppose so." The nervousness he had first felt vanished, and David grinned broadly. "So… I was wondering, knowing how you feel about me, and certainly how I feel about you… Would you--will you--?"

"Of course I'll be your girlfriend!" Vanessa flung her arms around him.

"Easy!" he exclaimed, shifting his injured arm out of her grasp.

"Sorry." Vanessa sat back, biting her lip and grinning apologetically.

"I'm okay." David reached out convulsively and took her hand, for some reason scared to let her out of his sight--or touch. He smiled sleepily. "I think I'm going to go to sleep… Stay with me, girlfriend."

"I will… boyfriend," Vanessa giggled, squeezing his hand.

"I'll have to get my brother in law to tell me the German word for 'girlfriend…'"

(LINE)

Eric kissed his wife. "You're lovely, _liebchen_, do you know that?"

"You tell me all the time." Clytie smiled at him. "It's just hard to believe sometimes."

Eric groaned. "Why?"

She sat up on one elbow, studying his face. _Dang, he's beautiful. _"I just…" She sighed and shook her head. "I don't know. Ann and I have discussed this before, the way we have a hard time trusting a good thing."

"You shouldn't have a hard time," Eric whispered, playing with a lock of her reddish blond hair. "Each of you has a husband who loves you."

Clytie bit her lip, smiling. _God, please let this be real. Please let it last forever… _"I guess I'll just have to trust you."

"And I'll do my best to prove to you the way I feel," Eric said quietly, solemnly, his blue eyes deep with something Clytie couldn't quite fathom.

"I love you, Eric," was all she could think to say.

And he kissed her again.

(LINE)

Armin Varner could feel the ship slowing down. The engines vibrated the floor beneath his feet. So they were nearing Newfoundland, were they? He smiled slowly, looking up at the ceiling. Revenge was but a few hours away.

"Captain Varner?"

He settled his cool gaze on the naval officer who stood outside the cell. "Yes?"

"We're arriving at Richardson Bay. Would you like to go ashore to see the doctor about your injuries, or would you like for our ship's surgeon to see you?"

Armin raised an eyebrow. So he was already receiving special treatment because of the information he was claiming to have. "I'll go ashore," he said quietly, steadily. "I've heard that Dr. Crane is an excellent doctor."

"All right. I'll tell you decision to the captain and Mr. Atkins."

"Thank-you." As soon as the young officer was out of earshot, the German commander could not help but laugh out loud.


	22. Accusation and Anger

Chapter Twenty-two

"Amanda, I thought you'd like to know that the _Venture _is just off our shore."

Amanda jerked her attention away from her chess game with herself, eyes sparkling. "It is!?"

Dr. Crane smiled at her. "Yes." Then he frowned. "It's being escorted by a United States ship, though. I hope nothing bad happened…"

"Me, too." Amanda stood, biting her lip and praying silently for Preston's safety. "Do you know yet if the crew is coming ashore?"

The doctor nodded, smiling at his niece's eagerness. "I think so. Wesley said he saw them getting their rowboats ready." He motioned toward Amanda's chess board. "You won't have to play by yourself if that Preston fellow comes ashore."

(LINE)

_Another day, another Seaborne… _Jack smiled at the thought as he watched Preston and Eric help David out of the rowboat, then he hopped ashore and reached around to help his wife up out of the boat.

"Thank-you, sir," she said with a smile, cheeks rosy.

"You're welcome, my lady." He bowed theatrically, causing her smile to broaden and light up her amazing eyes. "Now." He offered her his arm, which she took. "Let's go get a check up, shall we?"

Ann patted her rounding stomach gently. "We shall."

And the Driscolls followed the procession from dock to doc.

(LINE)

Vanessa chewed anxiously on one corner of her sleeve, her eyes darting back and forth between the door to the surgery room and Clytie's face. The woman seemed unnaturally calm, despite the fact that her younger brother was in surgery. Vanessa wished that Clytie's calm was contagious. She felt none of it.

"It will be all right, Vanessa," Amanda Crane assured the other girl from where she sat playing chess with Preston. "My uncle is an excellent surgeon. And David is tough. He'll make it."

Vanessa flashed the redhead a weak but grateful smile. "I hope you're right."

"I am," said Amanda with confidence.

Vanessa returned to chewing on her sleeve. She was soon interrupted from her troubled thoughts by a pounding on the front door.

Amanda stood quickly and, with an apologetic smile to Preston, ran to the door and opened it. She backed up quickly, surprise plain on her face. "Oh! Come in."

Two United States Navy officers entered Dr. Crane's living room, holding a prisoner between them.

Vanessa felt suddenly cold inside.

It was Armin Varner.

"I'm sorry, but my uncle is a little busy right now," Amanda explained to the men. "He's in the surgery room."

"We know," said one of the officers calmly. "We can wait."

Vanessa narrowed her eyes on the German prisoner. He looked smug. _Very _smug. The arrogance in his pale eyes made her shudder.

Armin glanced around the room, his gaze finally settling on Eric and Clytie, who were standing side by side near the door of the surgery room. "Is it your brother in surgery, Mrs. Englehorn?" he asked smoothly.

"Yes," Clytie replied, not looking at him, her voice clipped and devoid of emotion.

Vanessa held her breath. The tension between Armin Varner and the Englehorns was nearly suffocating. Fortunately, she did not have to hold it for long.

The door to the surgery room opened, and out stepped Dr. Crane, wearing a white apron splotched here and there with traces of red.

Vanessa leaped to her feet. "How is David?" she asked quickly.

All eyes and all ears were focused on the doctor.

And he smiled. "Young Mr. Seaborne is going to be just fine. The bullet did no damage to his bone and very little to his muscles. He'll recover quite nicely."

"May I--may I see him?" Vanessa asked breathlessly, her pulse pounding loudly in her ears and warmth flooding her veins again.

"Not quite yet." The doctor winked at her kindly. "He's resting right now, you see. And rest is just what he needs." His eyes suddenly narrowed on the naval officers and their prisoner. "May I help you?"

"This man is our prisoner," one of the officers told Crane. "He was injured in the same firefight as Mr. Seaborne, not badly, but we'd like you to take a look at him."

"Fine, fine. Bring him in." The doctor moved toward one of the other doors. "Amanda, get my bag out of the surgery room, will you?"

Amanda nodded and hurried to obey.

The officers steered Armin to the door beside Dr. Crane.

"I have an announcement to make," Armin suddenly declared.

Vanessa bit her lip, cold inside once again.

"I told Captain Jenkins and Mr. Atkins that I would reveal to them a German spy," Armin said grandly. He was smirking as he spoke, obviously quite pleased with himself. "And how easy it was to find him!" He jerked one arm away from the officer holding it and lifted it, pointing. "The spy is none other than Dr. Crane!"

The look on the doctor's kind, handsome face made Vanessa want to cry.

"What--what do you mean?" Crane stammered, eyes wide, cheeks pale.

"Of course, he'll deny it, but…" Armin brushed absently at the shoulder of his jacket. "It's him. He's the spy."

(LINE)

No one moved. No one spoke. All was still and quiet.

Eric was the first to break the silence. "Why should we believe you, Varner? You have never proven to be trustworthy."

"You can believe me now because I want my freedom," Armin said quietly, meeting Eric's blue gaze with steadiness. "To what lengths will a man go for freedom?"

"I--I swear to you--to you all… I am not a spy." Crane drew himself up, lifting his chin. "I am loyal to my country. I have never--and _will _never--betray her." His gray eyes flashed. "Especially not to fascists."

Armin laughed sharply. "He's an excellent actor, isn't he, Englehorn?"

Amanda came out of the surgery room then, carrying her uncle's equipment. Her eyes were wide and wet with tears. "I can't believe this. My uncle is no spy." She turned her sad face to the officers accompanying Varner. "You don't believe him, do you?"

"Ma'am, I don't know _what _to believe," said the taller of the two, whose tag read "Roberts."

The shorter man, bearing the nametag of "Anderson," shook his head. "I think we need to discuss this with our superiors before reaching a decision." He gave the red haired girl an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid the doctor is going to have to come with us."

"Oh, please no." Amanda wrapped her arms around herself and bowed her head.

Preston was instantly on his feet at her side.

"I'll go without a fuss," Crane said quickly, glancing at his niece. "I'm an innocent man. There's nothing you can convict me of."

"Then we'd best get back to the _Pride_," Roberts said quietly. "The sooner, the better." He looked down at Armin with distaste. "_Herr _Varner, I'm afraid your check-up is going to have to wait."

As Roberts and Anderson escorted Armin and Crane out of the doctor's house, Amanda wailed and flung herself into the comfort of Preston's arms.

Everyone else felt like wailing as well when Anderson ran back in to announce that Armin Varner had escaped.

(LINE)

Sitting beside the sleeping David's bed, Clytie felt distinctly traumatized by the day's events. Judging by the looks on the faces of the other women (Ann, Amanda, and Vanessa), Clytie was sure that they felt the same. She shuddered, frowning at the memory of Armin Varner pointing his finger at Dr. Crane. She felt sure now that the German's claim had been a ruse to distract his guards. And while they were busy with two prisoners instead of one, he had made a run for it. Now he was free in Newfoundland, while the probably innocent Crane was being taken to the _Pride _for questioning.

Clytie rubbed her aching eyes. _Jake, I'll bet you were the one who fell for Varner's plan. First Carl Denham, now Armin Varner… Which evil genius will you fall for next?_

"The men will catch him," Ann spoke up. "I'm sure of it."

"I hope so," muttered Amanda, a dark look in her blue eyes. "And I hope they bring him back here so we can beat him."

Vanessa smiled. "That sounds quite nice, actually." One of her slender hands was draped across David's shoulder protectively.

Clytie sighed. "I just hope they catch him soon. I want all this mess to be over. Dr. Crane needs to be cleared. Varner needs to be shipped back to Germany in chains. And we…" She smiled slightly. "The rest of us need to get back on the ship and go back to where Leviathan is."

(LINE)

Eric Englehorn was very frustrated. And also murderously angry at Armin Varner. He smiled briefly, imagining himself beating his enemy to a pulp. That would be most satisfying…

"Do you think this could be his footprint?" Jack asked, drawing Eric out of his quite pleasant daydream of violence.

Eric turned his attention to where the writer knelt just outside of the village. He bent down to look at the mark in the mud. "Mr. Driscoll, if you were on my crew, you would be promoted right now. Excellent work." He straightened. "Preston! Get over here! We've got a trail to follow!"


	23. Those Who Wait and Those Who Search

Sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter out. I am a slacker. An honest one, but a slacker nonetheless. And sorry it's so short. It's kind of a filler chapter.

Chapter Twenty-three

Armin Varner crept through the streets of Richardson Bay, keeping his eyes on the doctors house. All the men had left it, save for the injured David. Armin grinned. This was working out even better than he had planned.

The streets of the seaside village were empty. Armin guessed that this was because he had escaped. He smiled at the panic he had caused, imagining men herding their women and children inside to keep them safe from the escaped criminal… Quickly, he shook himself from his pleasant musings and resumed his creeping toward Dr. Crane's house.

The sky was beginning to darken with rain clouds, and there was a fog hovering over the sea. _Even the weather is working to my advantage, _Armin thought with a wolfish grin.

There was a candle in one of the window's of Crane's home and office. It glowed rather nicely through the thickening fog, like a small beacon.

Armin Varner crept toward it, his mind alive with thoughts of violence and revenge.

(LINE)

Dark days always brought a sort of fatalistic melancholy to Clytie Seaborne Englehorn. She could feel the mood coming upon her and quickly moved toward the candle Amanda had lit in the window. She held her hand over it, hoping to draw at least some warmth from the tiny flame.

"I love candles," Amanda was saying, lighting yet another, this one on a coffee table. "My uncle does, too. He says that they have a soothing affect, and that's good for the patients." Her fingers shook then, and she dropped the match. She quickly stamped it out and picked up the charred stub. "Now that--that wouldn't have been good at all!" she exclaimed. "What would Uncle George say if he came back to a--to a burnt down house?"

Ann watched the redhead closely. "Amanda, why don't you sit down? It's been a trying day for you--for all of us."

"Especially Uncle George," Amanda murmured as she allowed Ann to lead her to the couch. She sat down beside Vanessa with a long, shaky sigh.

Clytie managed what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "Don't worry. This will all be cleared up by sunset. You'll see."

There was a loud boom of thunder, and the women all jumped.

"That probably woke up David," said Vanessa, standing swiftly. "I'm gonna go check on him." She hurried into the bedroom.

Clytie turned back to the window and crossed her arms. Her eyes defocused on the grayness outside as she thought of her husband. _God, keep him safe out there… _

Suddenly, something outside caught her eye. She refocused her gaze on the streets of Richardson Bay. Something had moved… And there it was again--and dark form darting behind one of the buildings. Someone was sneaking through the streets.

"Ann! Ann, come look at this!" Clytie motioned to her friend. "There's someone out there!"

"Of course there's someone out there, Clytie," said Ann, joining her at the window. "Our husbands and--" She stopped, blue eyes wide. "Clytie… That's not Jack."

"Or Eric."

"Or Preston."

The two friends looked at each other.

"Ann, Clytie… All the people are supposed to be inside," Amanda said, standing. "Who _is _that out there?"

"Whoever it is, they're coming this way," Clytie said quietly. Her eyes went to the front door.

Amanda caught the glanced and hurried to lock the door. "Clytie, that Varner fellow--he's in custody, right?"

"He's supposed to be," said Clytie. She swallowed hard. What if the crafty German had decided to return for revenge?

"Amanda, does your uncle keep any guns around here?" Ann asked.

Clytie glanced at her blond friend, surprised that Ann was the first to ask that question.

"I think so. He's mentioned a pistol before." Amanda tapped her lower lip with one forefinger. "I think he keeps it in his bedroom, in the nightstand. I'll go get it." She quickly ran from the living room.

Clytie raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed you thought of that, Ann."

Ann shrugged, grinning wryly. "Hanging around you Englehorns and Seabornes gives one violent ideas sometimes."

Clytie laughed, glad to feel at least a moment's relief from her anxiety.

Amanda reentered the room with a small pistol. "It's loaded," she said. She drew back the hammer with a click. "And now it's cocked."

The door to the patients' bedroom opened, and Vanessa stepped out, quietly closing the door behind her. "What's going on?" she asked the other young women. "I heard someone say something about a pistol." Her dark blue eyes grew wide at the sight of the weapon in Amanda Crane's hand.

"There's someone out there," Clytie said quietly, pointing to the door. "Someone's sneaking toward the house."

"Who would be doing that?" Vanessa asked, frowning.

"Varner," Clytie said grimly. "Armin Varner would."

(LINE)

Eric Englehorn gritted his teeth in frustration.

Armin Varner obviously knew he was being followed. His tracks went in zigzags and circles.

The captain of the tramp steamer straightened and crossed his arms. He looked at Jack and Preston, who were watching him anxiously.

"Well?" said Jack.

"He knows we're following him," Eric said. "He's trying to confuse us."

"Where do you think he's headed?" asked Preston.

"I don't know." Eric closed his eyes and thought for a moment. _Where _would _Varner go? _

"Captain, you don't think--"

Jack's voice, shaky with sudden emotion, stirred Eric from his thoughts.

"You don't think he'd head back to the village, do you?"

_Yes he would! _"Come on!" Eric exclaimed, starting back toward the buildings. "That's exactly where he'd go!"

(LINE)

"I don't know how in the world you talked me into this, but…" Darby sighed, tugging hard on the oars. "If anything bad comes of this, if you're up to something--it's on your head, Mr. Rousseau."

"I understand that, mon ami." Fabrice looked at his fingernails, frowning at the sight of a chip in the tip of one. "But you must trust me. I know things about Armin Varner that could be very useful to the Americans." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I used to work with them, you know."

"Pretty recently, too," Darby muttered.

"I think we can trust him, Galyon," said Bruce from the back of the rowboat.

"I hope we can," said Darby.


	24. Fear and Resolution

Chapter Twenty-four

Darby, Bruce, Jimmy, and Rousseau climbed out of the rowboat, which Jimmy quickly tied to the dock.

"This doesn't look very promising," Bruce muttered darkly, glancing up at the cloud-darkened sky then around at the abandoned-looking village.

Jimmy joined to actor in staring out at the buildings. "Where _is _everybody?"

"There's someone over there," said Bruce, pointing toward a shape moving in the gloom.

Fabrice muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" Darby asked him.

"That was something we say in France when everything goes wrong," the Frenchman explained dryly.

"Well what's the matter?" Jimmy asked.

"I think that man we just saw… I think that was Armin Varner."

(LINE)

"So who gets the pistol?" asked Amanda. "I'm not the best of shots."

"Give it to Clytie," said Ann. "She's an Englehorn."

Clytie took the pistol from Amanda with a wry smile. It felt cold in her hand.

There was a sudden booming sound from outside. The four women jumped, then relaxed when they realized that the sound was thunder.

"I'm glad you didn't shoot any of us, Clytie," Vanessa said, eyes wide.

"Me,too," Clytie replied wryly. She narrowed her eyes on the window. Any glimpse of the village outside was blotted out by a thick curtain of rain. Clytie shivered. "I hope Eric and Jack and Preston get back soon, because if that's Armin Varner out there--"

There was another booming sound. This time, it wasn't thunder. Someone was knocking on the door.

The girls looked at each other, eyes wide.

Ann acted first. "Who is it?" she called, moving closer to Clytie.

There was no reply.

"Amanda, Vanessa--get in the room with David and lock the door," Clytie hissed at the younger girls.

"But you and Ann--" Amanda started.

"Do as she says," Ann cut her off.

"O-okay," said Amanda quickly. She grabbed Vanessa's arm and started pulling the other girl toward the room where the injured David lay sleeping.

"Hang on!" Vanessa jerked her arm from Amanda's grasp. "Clytie! What are you thinking?"

Clytie completely ignored the girl whom she hoped would one day be her sister-in-law. "Ann, this may get ugly, so I want you to get in there, too."

"Clytie--"

"Ann, you're pregnant," Clytie said bluntly. "Think of your baby."

Ann bit her lip.

"Look, Ann is pregnant and David is hurt," Clytie said steadily, turning to face Vanessa and Amanda. "The two of you need to--to fall back and defend them, all right?"

Amanda nodded slowly. "I understand."

"Vanessa?" Clytie asked, looking askance at the little brunette.

Vanessa nodded quickly. "All right, Clytie."

"Ann?"

Ann had turned and walked toward the door to David's room. She paused now at the threshold, one slender hand draped noncommittally on the doorknob. She glanced over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes on Clytie. "Be careful, Clytie," she warned her friend. "Because if you're not, you might endanger a pregnant woman because she just might come out here to help you."

Clytie smiled wryly then, touched by Ann's concern. "I'll be careful. I promise." She waved with her gun. "Now get in there!"

"Aye, aye, Mrs. Englehorn!" Ann said with a mock salute. She slipped into the room, followed closely by Vanessa and Amanda.

Then the door was shut.

Clytie turned to face the front door of the Cranes' home and took a deep breath. The gun still felt cold in her hands.

(LINE)

Armin Varner rammed his muscular shoulder against the front door to Dr. Crane's house. The door, obviously solidly made, did not budge. He stepped back from it and crossed his arms, thinking quickly. A smirk twisted his features as his mind lit on a plan.

"Clytie Englehorn!" he yelled, reaching into his jacket. "I suggest you step back from the door!"

(LINE)

Clytie frowned at the shouted words, momentarily confused. Then, with a surge of fear, she realized what he meant. She quickly leaped to the side, slamming into the hardwood floor just as a bullet ripped through the front door, lodging in the wall just behind where she had stood.

"Clytie!" Ann called.

Armin's laughter drifted through the new hole in the door. "Are you still alive, Mrs. Englehorn?" he called gleefully.

Clytie neglected to give him the pleasure of a reply. She crawled to the door, gripping Dr. Crane's pistol with shaking hands, and peered through the hole. Sure enough, the vengeful German officer stood on the threshold, a pistol in his hand.

"Clytie! Are you alive!?" His voice was laced with impatience.

Clytie slid the barrel of Crane's pistol up to the door, keeping her eye on Armin. Her finger closed around the trigger… Then she hesitated. Could she do it? Shoot a man who had no idea what was coming, even if he was as cruel as Armin Varner? _I'll just wound him, _she thought, moving the gun barrel against the door to where she thought she might hit his leg if she fired.

Suddenly, there was a cry from behind her. "Clytie! Are you all right!?" It was Vanessa's voice.

Now Clytie was in a dilemma. Did she reply to her friends? Doing so would give away her position to Varner, but keeping quiet might cause her friends to come out of hiding…

And then, Armin let out a shout of alarm. Clytie quickly resumed peering through the hole in the door. She could still see the German officer, but his stance had dramatically changed. He was no longer looking at the door of the doctor's house with arrogance, but looking toward the harbor with a look of mingled fear and frustration on his hard features.

What could be distracting him so?

(LINE)

Eric Englehorn saw with a start that Armin Varner had a gun and there was hole in the door of Dr. Crane's house. The tramp steamer's captain felt a pulse of fear shuddering through his body. What if Clytie… He shook himself. _Don't think like that. Just take down Varner. _Taking a deep breath, he broke into a run, followed closely by Jack and Preston.

"He's got a gun!" Jack exclaimed.

"I know!" Eric replied.

"What do we do?" Preston asked, his voice a bit breathless from the run.

Eric wiped raindrops from his eyes, then moved his hand to hover over the pistol on his hip. "We take him down."

"Right," said Jack eagerly.

"How do we do that?" Preston asked.

"Like this," said Eric, whipping out his pistol and ceasing his frantic sprint. "Armin Varner!" he shouted. "Surrender or be shot and killed!"

(LINE)

"That was definitely the skipper," Jimmy muttered to Darby as they crept along the streets of the village with Fabrice Rousseau in tow.

"Definitely," Darby agreed with a nod. "Aha! There he is!" The Irish sailor pointed. "It's hard to see anything in this blessed rain!"

"It's ruining my clothes, as well," Fabrice remarked darkly, eyeing his soaked white shirt.

"I'm with ya on that one, buddy," Bruce agreed, glancing down at his own clothes.

Jimmy and Darby exchanged amused glances.

"Well come on," said Darby. "Let's help the captain catch this madman."

As they moved deeper into the town, Jimmy muttered to himself, "How come I feel that won't be the last time someone says that?"

(LINE)

At the sound of Eric's voice, Clytie's stomach twisted. She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out to her husband. _He's in danger, Clytie. It's no use distracting him! _Instead of calling to her husband, she slid Crane's pistol into her pocket and began crawling toward the room where her friends and brother took refuge.

"Clytie, are you alive?" came a sharp whisper.

"I'm fine, Ann," Clytie whispered back, standing slowly. "Let me in."

Ann opened the door and took hold of Clytie's arm, peering around her. "What's going on out there?" she asked quietly, eyes wide.

"Our husbands are back in the village. They're confronting Varner."

Ann bit her lip.

"Clytie, where is the Navy?" Amanda asked, coming up behind Ann. "Are they out looking for Varner, too?"

Clytie nodded. "Yes, but they're probably on the other side of town by now. They're too far away to be of any help."

"So it's up to us to help the men, then," said Ann resolutely.

Clytie met her friend's steady gaze. "Yes, Ann. It's up to us."


	25. Endings and Beginnings

Yes, it's taken me forever to update this story. But, as my mom would say, I'm living "in transition" right now--new college, new job, new computer, unfortunately no new boyfriend, etc. Thanks for sticking with me!

Chapter Twenty-five

Armin Varner was in a crisis. On one side, Eric Englehorn, Jack Driscoll, and that chess-obsessed Preston kid stood watching him. On the other was Dr. Crane's house, which contained the wounded man and the women, most notably the dangerous Clytie Seaborne Englehorn. So Armin did what any true warrior would do. He drew another pistol, smiling in satisfaction when the eyes of Eric, Jack, and Preston widened.

"Didn't see that coming, did you?" he called tauntingly to them. "If you shoot at me, not only do I shoot at you, but I also shoot into that house. There are so many ladies in there. One of them might get hit."

The Nazi officer could see Englehorn's jaw clench, but the tramp steamer captain did not move. Instead, he kept his pistol trained on Armin.

Darby, Jimmy, Bruce, and Fabrice came running into the street at just that moment.

Armin, standing with a gun pointing to his right and another to his left, cursed under his breath. Now he was surrounded on three sides… Then he noticed the presence of Fabrice. "Rousseau!" he called. "Would you like to give me a hand?"

(LINE)

Jimmy shot the Frenchman a worried glance. The handsome peacock was so unpredictable. Now that he was given the choice, whose side would he choose?

"You left me to rot in that cage, Varner!" Fabrice yelled at the German. "You made no effort to get me out. And now you're asking me to help you?"

"You tell him," Jimmy muttered.

Fabrice flashed the young sailor a wry smile. "Here I am helping the ones who put me in the cage in the first place," he whispered.

"Well…" Jimmy grimaced.

"Lower your guns, Mr. Varner," Darby called out calmly, startling both Jimmy and Fabrice. "It won't do you any good. You can only shoot two of us, but all of us can shoot you."

"Then I take two of you down with me," Armin reasoned.

Jimmy believed the man would do it. Armin Varner was clearly insane.

"We've gotta get those guns out of his hands," Bruce spoke up quietly. "If not, I think he really will take a couple of us down with him."

Darby glanced over his shoulder at the actor, surprise registering in his green eyes. "You're right. What we need is a distraction…"

(LINE)

"What kind of distraction?" Vanessa asked, squinting up at Clytie with her dark blue eyes.

"Something that will really get his attention and keep it," Clytie said, pacing back and forth in the sick room of Dr. Crane's house.

"And something that won't endanger any one of us," Ann added cautiously. She stood with her hands on her hips, frowning.

"Especially not you," Clytie countered. She bit her lip, frowning. "I think--I think we might have to try taking him down ourselves. We do have a gun after all."

"Let's do it!" said Amanda.

"Well what exactly do we do?" asked Vanessa, looking worried. Her slender arms were crossed over her chest, and her dark blue eyes were wide.

"I have a feeling Clytie's going to say, 'You three stay in here. I'll go shoot Varner myself,'" said Ann with a wry smile.

Clytie swallowed. That was almost exactly what she had planned to say. "Well? Do any of you see anything wrong with that plan?" she asked.

"I do," said Amanda, lifting her chin.

Clytie raised an eyebrow at the redhead. "What is it?"

"You're doing it _again_," Amanda said. "You're risking yourself while the rest of us get to sit back and hide. Clytie, I don't want to see you get hurt. You're good to have around."

"She's right," said Vanessa. "It's too dangerous for you."

The shouting from outside grew suddenly louder.

Clytie cocked the gun in her hand, making the other girls jump. "I don't see that we have another choice," she said resolutely. "Ann is pregnant. She can't risk her baby. Vanessa and Amanda--neither of you has much experience with firing a pistol. I'm the only one who can do this. Now look, we don't have much time. I'm going to walk out there and shoot and Varner. I suggest you duck." With that, she turned and walked stubbornly toward the door.

Watching her friend's determined steps, Ann sighed. "She's right, girls." Then she tilted her head to the side, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But who's to say she won't need our help? If she gets in any trouble, we'll back her up."

As soon as Clytie walked out of the Cranes' house, chaos broke loose upon the earth.

Armin saw her and fired.

Clytie saw him and ducked.

Fabrice and Eric fired simultaneously.

And then all was quiet.

Clytie laid on the ground, panting, trying to ignore the pain of gravel under her palms and her cheek. She waited nervously. What was going on? She could not wait any longer to find out. She quickly scrambled to her hands and knees and looked around.

Armin Varner was lying on the ground, bleeding from his outstretched hand. His pistol laid a few feet away. He must have had some other wound as well, for his face wore a look of pain and anger.

"Clytie!" cried an oh so familiar voice.

With a strangled cry of relief, Clytie got to her feet and ran to her husband. His arms went around her, and she started to cry, burying her face in his shoulder. "Eric, you're alright," she murmured. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Yes, love," he whispered in her ear, his hands running through her hair. "I'm glad you're alright, too."

They clung to each other for a moment, until Clytie felt dizzy--and extremely curious about what was going on behind her. She turned in her husband's embrace so that her back was to his chest. Facing the doctor's house, she watched as Darby and Jack jerked Armin rather roughly to his feet. The Nazi seaman was bleeding from the right shoulder and the right hand.

"Rousseau grabbed Galyon's gun and shot the pistol out of Varner's hand," Eric said quietly.

Clytie's green eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," said Eric.

"You mean…He helped us?" Clytie asked, her voice sounding squeaky to her own ears.

"He helped us," said Eric. Disbelief was clear in his blue eyes. "I never thought he would ever do anything like that…" But Fabrice Rousseau was quickly gone from his mind as Clytie's lips met his.

As she kissed her husband, Clytie could hear Jack and Ann shouting each other's names, Amanda calling out, "Preston!" When she and Eric finally pulled apart, Clytie rested her forehead against his chest, basking in the strength of his arms. "It's over now, isn't it?" she whispered.

He leaned his chin gently on her head, his hands massaging her back. "I think so," he said quietly. "Where would you like to go now?"

Clytie looked up at him and grinned.

Eric raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"I'd like to go back and find Leviathan again, Eric," said Clytie, eyes shining with excitement.

Eric threw back his head and laughed. "How did I know you'd say that?"

(LINE)

Jack just held Ann quietly, brown eyes wide. They were all alright. He could barely believe it. And here was Ann, warm, beautiful, and pregnant, in his arms. He kissed the top of her head, smiling at his thoughts of their future together.

"Ooh!" Ann suddenly exclaimed.

Jack held her at arms' length, looking worriedly at her. "What is it, Ann?"

Ann giggled girlishly and patted her stomach. "I think I felt the baby kick!"

(LINE)

Amanda ran toward Preston, stopping about a foot away from him, unsure what to say or do. She was so relieved that he was alright! "Uhm… Hi," she said, twirling a finger in her red hair.

Preston pushed up his glasses (which was incredibly cute, Amanda thought). "Hi," he said.

"Are you up for a game of chess?" Amanda blurted out.

Preston blinked. Then he smiled slowly. "No," he said.

Amanda felt stricken. Was he tired of her _already_? "No?" she asked, sticking out her bottom lip.

There was a twinkle in Preston's green eyes. "No. I'd rather do this," he said. And suddenly, his hands were framing her face, and his lips were capturing hers in a tender, oh-so-sweet kiss.

Amanda thought kissing was much more fun than chess.

(LINE)

Vanessa just stood there, watching Darby and Jimmy manhandle Armin, watching the three couples reunite. She still felt a bit in shock after all the excitement. Watching the couples kiss, she felt a lump rise in her throat, and with a smile, she turned and walked back into Dr. Crane's house. She walked slowly across the living room, quietly entering the bedroom where David slept. She sat softly on the bed beside him, amazed that he had slept through everything.

"I love you, David Seaborne," she whispered, reaching to touch his dark, wavy hair.

That was when he opened his eyes and smiled at her.

(LINE)

Jimmy felt a little bewildered by all the affection. Clytie and Eric were kissing as if no one was watching. Jack and Ann were giggling over their baby. Preston and Amanda were just staring at each other. And Vanessa had obviously gone back into the house to check on David.

Jimmy shrugged and shook his head.

"Hey, Jimmy," said Darby.

Jimmy looked up at the Irishman.

Darby winked. "We've got girls at home, mate," he said.

That made Jimmy smile.

Armin, held captive between them, muttered something venomous in German.

"Oh, hush!" said Jimmy.

(LINE)

"Well done, pal," said Bruce to Rousseau, patting his newfound friend on the back.

Fabrice tried not to wince inconspicuously. Straightening the cuffs of his fancy shirt, he glanced up at the sky. "Looks like the rain is clearing up," he said absently.

"Sure does," said Bruce, also looking up. He turned his attentions to the Frenchman. "Say, fella, the ladies love a French accent. Think you could come back to New York with me and teach me how to speak it? You see, there's this mission we call the 'bride search…'"

(LINE)

Back on the _Venture, _Clytie and Eric reclined on their bunk. Clytie's eyes were drawn to the window, where the sun was breaking through the deep gray clouds. She sighed, content with the world.

"Do you really want a baby?" Eric whispered, his lips tantalizingly close to her ear.

"Yes," said Clytie with a blush, thinking of the bliss that prospective parenthood had brought to the Driscolls.

Eric whispered something to her in German, his fingers brushing her hair from the back of her neck.

Clytie closed her eyes and leaned into his embrace. Armin Varner was captured. Dr. Crane was acquitted. David was recovering. And Clytie… She giggled as her husband nuzzled her neck. Clytie Englehorn was in heaven.

(LINE)

The creature lifted her head above the water, her dark, soulful eyes searching the horizon. She was lonely. Playing in the waves was not the same without someone to watch her. Then she saw the dark shape on the horizon. Its steamy, rusty scent was familiar to the sea dragon.

Leviathan dove back into the waves, on her way to greet her friend.

(A/N: So that's it! Let me know what you think! I may be up for another sequel or two. Thanks to all of my faithful reviewers! I love you all in a very friendly and unscary way!)


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